Damage
by wearing-tearing
Summary: "You better be worth the damage you're going to cause," Derek told him. "I'm always worth it."


**A/N:** a little background and warnings:

derek is five years older than stiles here, thirty to stiles' twenty five.  
derek, laura, and scott are siblings, and their parents are melissa and peter. that's where their surname - mchale - comes from because i'm not creative ~  
there's some minor character deaths there are a result of the violence in the fic, but you guys don't have to worry because i didn't kill anyone important.  
the canonical character death here is for mama stilinski - i named her aria - and kate argent, if you want to read it that way.  
and i should probably warn everyone that kate wants stiles' dick.

i guess that's it, enjoy :D

* * *

Stiles was being shot at.

He had never been shot at before.

Being the Sheriff's son protected him from situations like this, since no one in their right minds would like to be faced with a pissed off Sheriff - a pissed off Sheriff who had the power to make their lives a living hell if he put his mind into it, especially if it meant protecting his son. But Stiles was still being shot at.

And it was all Scott and Allison's fault.

* * *

Stiles' mother left him a bookstore when she died.

He was still too young to do anything about it when it happened, though. But his mother's best friend, Melissa McHale, had been taking care of the store since Aria had gotten sick, and she didn't mind doing the job until Stiles graduated from college and decided to take the reins.

Stiles' first official act as a bookstore owner was to hire Scott full-time.

See, Scott was Stiles' best friend and had been since birth. He was Melissa and Peter McHale's youngest child and probably the best person Stiles knew.

Unlike Scott's older brother, Derek.

Sure, sometimes Derek was nice enough to pick Stiles and Scott up whenever they got too drunk at parties and couldn't drive back home, and he always knew when to stop the car so they could throw up by the side of the road and not in his car. But he was still a jerk.

A very hot, very sexy jerk.

In their party days, Stiles and Scott sometimes tried calling Scott's older sister, Laura, but that never went well. For some reason Stiles couldn't understand – maybe being the oldest got to Laura's head -, she'd always felt the need to lecture them in underage drinking and drunk driving and behaving responsibly. She never snitched on them, though.

To Stiles' absolute lack of surprise, she became a cop.

While Laura had been cheerleading captain, prom queen, and voted Most Popular, Best Smile and one half of Best Couple in high school, Derek had been her complete opposite. He could hot-wire any car going, was rumored to send people running with just a glare, and nailed every guy who showed some interest.

Every guy, that is, but Stiles, no matter how hard Stiles tried and let's just say he tried a lot.

Stiles had been throwing himself at Derek since he could remember.

Scott and Stiles had actually decided at the age of eight that Stiles would marry Derek so they could be "real brothers". Scott was going to be Stiles' best man, and Stiles would always invite Scott to go play videogames and eat candy at his and Derek's house, because they'd have a never-ending supply of goodies and the newest games out. They even spit on their palms and shook hands on it.

It was totally legit.

But as Stiles' luck – or lack thereof - would have it he fell into the "Thou Shall Not Fuck My Little Brother's Best Friend Until He Can't Remember His Own Name" list.

At Stiles' last effort to make Derek notice him – when he was twenty and Derek was twenty-five-, he had been shut down.

Hard.

Derek had gone as far as saying Stiles was like a little brother to him, and that had been it. No more Stiles throwing himself at Derek.

Stiles quit.

Gave up.

Threw in the towel.

Whatever.

Stiles was fucking _done_.

Even if his crush was still going on strong.

Scott still had hope they'd someday end together, though. And so did Melissa.

Stiles didn't even want to think about what his dad thought of the whole thing.

So Stiles resigned himself to see Derek only at holidays, every birthday celebration, and most family barbeques and parties – it had long been tradition for the Stilinskis to spend those with the McHales, and Stiles' stupid crush wasn't going to ruin it. Usually there were always enough other people to run interference, but in the odd occasion where Stiles found himself alone with Derek, he'd always make his excuses and leave early.

He couldn't take it, and he was man enough to admit it.

To himself.

In the dark.

At night.

Leaving early pissed Scott and Melissa off, but after throwing himself at Derek for years only to be rejected and then having to live with seeing him outside of commemorative dates was, well, a little mortifying.

Now, Stiles second official act was to invest in an espresso machine for the bookstore.

That had been, by far, the best decision he ever made when it came to the store. Selling coffee made him _a lot _of money. He never really thought that preying on people's coffee addiction was going to turn out being the best thing in his life. He coaxed his favorite barista, Allison Argent, to come work for him. She was some kind of coffee goddess, and soon there were lines and lines of people waiting to drink whatever she made them.

And sometimes they even bought books, too.

But coffee addicts weren't the only people in love with Allison. As soon as his eyes landed on her, Scott was a goner. It hadn't come to a surprise for Stiles to see his best friend fall for Allison's dimples and curly dark hair, and he couldn't be happier when they started dating.

Expect when Stiles caught them sucking face when they were supposed to be working.

And then fifteen minutes ago, as Stiles was closing down the shop and Allison was making him something to go, she had told him something.

Something Stiles didn't want to hear.

And not only this something had the potential to turn out really fucking badly for everyone, she had involved Scott.

Then five minutes ago, as Stiles finished locking up the store and Allison handed him his coffee, two guys came up to them. Two guys who made Stiles' spidey senses tingle and said they wanted to have a chat with them.

The chat didn't go well.

And they shot at Allison.

Then at Stiles.

With real guns.

Guns filled with bullets.

And it was all Scott and Allison's fault.

* * *

As Stiles looked down at his cell, trying not to have a heart attack, he tried to figure out who to call.

He could, and probably should, call his dad or maybe Laura.

Considering his choices, Stiles thought Laura might be his best bet. She'd go crazy when she heard he'd been shot at and would probably arrest Allison on the spot, but she was the least likely to kill Allison for putting Stiles in danger – and let's not forget Scott, too. But if he did call Laura, Stiles didn't think it would go well for Scott to find out his sister arrested his girlfriend for getting his best friend shot at.

His dad was his dad so he'd just lose it and make a scene which would freak Allison out. Plus, he had heart problems. Stiles was pretty sure that calling him and telling him he got shot at wouldn't help with that.

Allison was a coffee artist and a Disney princess.

She didn't need the Sheriff going crazy on her ass.

And right now, she said no cops. And Stiles could understand why. So even though he really wanted to call Laura, he didn't.

He found himself calling Derek and leaving him a voice mail letting him know he was headed for his condo with Allison. He figured Derek wouldn't be at home, out on a job doing whatever it is he does – Stiles still secretly thinks Derek works for the CIA or something -, and if he was, well, Stiles didn't think he'd ask too many questions.

Boy, was he _wrong_.

Allison had stopped shaking by the time they got to Derek's condo and were standing in his living room. Even though she wasn't his favorite person at the moment, Stiles sat her down on the couch, wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, and made her some tea.

Stiles was a good friend like that.

Even though the tea making was meant more to calm him down than to calm her down, but Allison didn't need to know that.

"I don't think being here is a good idea, Stiles," Allison said, taking a sip of her tea.

"It's okay," Stiles said. "He's not here right now. And he's not supposed to be back for a couple of days, if I'm not mistaken. We're okay. We're safe here. No one would be crazy enough to break into Derek McHale's condo."

Stiles tried giving her a reassuring smile, but that only made Allison seem paler.

"Maybe you should call him," Allison suggested.

"Already left him a voice mail," Stiles shrugged. "Plus, he doesn't like to be disturbed when he's out-of-town on business. Only in case of emergencies."

"This might be an emergency," Allison whispered against the rim of her cup.

Stiles tried to make Allison take Derek's bed so he could sleep on the couch and "keep watch", but she refused.

"It'll feel weird," Allison explained. "I'm dating his brother. And you look like you could fall down at any minute, so I doubt you'd be doing a lot of 'watching'."

Stiles merely rolled his eyes at her and went to find her another blanket and a pillow. He felt like he should have put more of a fight against her taking the couch – being a gentleman like his mother thought him -, but getting shot at and running for his life had left him exhausted.

Once he got into Derek's room, he thought about sleeping on the floor but he was too tired and Derek was always away on business these days, doing whatever secret job he did, so it was not like it mattered much.

He took off his jeans, shoes, socks, and found one of Derek's old shirts to sleep in. He didn't like to go to bed with the clothes he spent the day in, and if Stiles took a little whiff to breathe in some of Derek's scent when he slipped the shirt over his head and down his chest, it was no one's business but his own.

And maybe his dick's.

Stiles was not a light sleeper, he slept deep and moved around a lot. He moved around so much that most of his boyfriends eventually opted to sleep on the couch – or they'd just get out the door as soon as they could. He tried to sleep in clothes that would not get him into trouble during all his twisting and turning at night, which usually meant he slept in his boxers and nothing else. The only reason he wasn't doing that now was because Allison was right there in the living room.

And it didn't feel right to sleep half-naked in Derek's bed without Derek in it.

Stiles tried not to think too much about crawling into Derek's bed as _crawling into Derek's bed_.

It was just a bed.

It didn't matter that it was Derek McHale's bed.

So that it kind of smelled like him, and it made Stiles feel safe and cozy and protected.

So _what_?

Stiles fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow, and next thing he knew something was wrapped around his ankle and dragging him down the length of the bed. When Stiles' knees slammed into the footboard, he whipped around to his back and gave – and this is what he will call it until his dying day - a manly yelp. He saw a big shadow looming over him in the dark and opened his mouth to scream, knowing that whoever had shot at him and Allison had found them and they were going to fucking _die_.

Before he could scream, the hand left his ankle, and two hands grabbed at his hips and yanked him out of bed. He was set down on his feet, both of his wrists were seized and pulled behind his back, making him hiss in pain as he was slammed face first against a wall, a hard body pressed at his back.

"Talk," a deep voice demanded and Stiles knew that voice.

It was Derek.

And this whole situation had gone from scary to hot in 3.5 seconds.

Shit, shit, shit.

Stiles didn't say anything, too busy cursing his bad luck.

"Two seconds," Derek warned.

"Derek, it's me. Stiles."

The hands on Stiles' wrists loosened but didn't let go.

"What the fuck?"

Stiles took a deep breath, pushing a little against Derek's chest so his face wasn't smashed against the wall. This was the closest Stiles had been to him in, well, ever.

It was doing things to his brain.

Derek didn't even budge when Stiles moved, the bastard.

Stiles explained, "I have a bit of a situation going on and I needed someplace safe to stay for a night. I called you in your cell."

Derek took a moment to let the rest of Stiles' words to sink in. "Who was on the couch?"

"Allison."

"Scott's girlfriend?"

"Yeah."

"Shit," Derek said, letting Stiles go and walking out of the room.

Stiles had a very bad feeling about this.

When he made it to the living room, Derek snapped the light on and Allison was lying face down in the middle of the floor. Her hands and feet were taped together behind her back with duct tape and there was tape on her mouth.

"Derek! What the fuck?" Stiles shouted, running to where Allison was and crouching down beside her. Her face was streaked with tears, and if Stiles wasn't pissed at Derek for doing this to her, he'd be impressed.

He hadn't heard a thing.

Derek was like a fucking _ninja_.

A very sexy, very scary ninja.

Derek already had his pocket knife out and was cutting through the tape.

"I came home and she was on my couch, you were in my bed. What'd you think I'd do?" Derek answered as he ripped the tape off Allison's mouth.

Stiles helped Allison stand up, taking her back to the couch and wrapping a blanket around her just as he had done when they arrived a few hours ago.

"You didn't get my voice mail," Stiles said instead of answering Derek's question.

Because what he did to Allison was exactly what Stiles thought he'd do.

"I lost my cell," Derek said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You lost your cell," Stiles rolled his eyes, going to sit down beside Allison on the couch. "You okay?" he asked her.

Allison turned to glare at him.

_Okay_.

"What's going on?" Derek said, staring at them.

It was then Stiles realized he only had his boxers and one of Derek's shirts on. Not exactly the clothes he wanted to be in during this conversation.

"I'll go get dressed," he said, standing.

Derek shook his head. "You'll talk."

"I'll talk. I just need to put some clothes on first."

"What you need is to tell me what the fuck is going on," Derek countered, his tone breaking no argument.

Stiles glared at him before taking a deep breath. He really didn't want to do this without any pants on.

"Okay," Stiles said, looking back at Allison. "We have a situation here, and Allison and I need somewhere to crash for the night and we'll be gone tomorrow."

"Why?" Derek asked.

"Stiles," Allison whispered, looking panicked.

"You both talk or you get out," Derek said.

Stiles looked at Derek then at Allison.

He'd known Allison for three years, she'd come to parties at his house. They went on coffee dates together, and she'd sometimes sneak him Skittles at work. He had no idea what her family did, though. Not until tonight, that was. All he had known what that she made good coffee and was in love with Scott.

He looked back at Derek.

It wasn't really a difficult choice to make.

"You have to promise to keep quiet."

Because Allison was still his friend. And Scott was in love with her.

"I don't have to promise anything," Derek replied.

Stiles glared at him again.

Derek was being difficult, and Allison was scared.

And Stiles really wanted to put his fucking pants back on.

"Do you have a robe I can borrow?" Stiles asked instead, biting down on his bottom lip.

Derek stared at him.

Then stared at him some more.

Then said, "Stiles, start talking."

Stiles took a deep breath and said, "Okay, the thing is, Allison was asked to keep something for her aunt. Something kind of valuable, as in kind of _really_ valuable. And that might not really belong to her, but to other people. She went out with Scott just after that and gave it to him for safekeeping, so she doesn't have it. And since Scott is not answering his phone right now, we have to lay low until we can get it back from him."

"We?"

"Well," Stiles pursed his lips, knowing Derek wouldn't like what he was going to say. "I was kind of with Allison when they came after it."

"And?"

"And, like I said, she didn't have it."

"And?"

"And I had a few words with them in Allison's defense."

Derek was looking pissed off by now, eyes narrowed at Stiles. "Of course you did. And?"

"And that's when they shot at us and we took off," Stiles finished, with a shrug.

Derek said nothing, but a muscle ticked in his jaw.

Stiles didn't take that as a good sign.

"What is it?" Derek asked.

"I can't say," Stiles shook his head.

"If you don't say, Scott's girlfriend or not, I'm gonna let her loose."

Stiles shook his head again. "She doesn't want anyone to know. It's her family."

"I'll escort her out of the building myself."

Stiles looked back at Allison, who was staring at them with her mouth set in a thin line. Stiles let out a heavy sigh. "Maybe we should go, get a hotel room."

Allison looked pleased at this.

"I didn't say I'll let _you_ go, I said I'll let _her_ loose."

This announcement gave Stiles a start and he turned to Derek.

"What?"

Because _what_?

"What do you mean?"

Still no answer.

"What are you going to do with me?" Stiles tried again, narrowing his eyes.

The possibilities were endless.

And Stiles hoped all of them involved orgasms.

But who was he kidding? Derek didn't want him.

"You tell me what this is about, nothing."

"And if I don't tell you?"

"I haven't decided yet."

Stiles huffed, and Derek's patience ran out. He grabbed Stiles by the arm, pausing to stare at Allison and saying, "You move, you'll regret it."

Then Derek yanked Stiles into his bedroom, hit the light switch and closed the door behind them.

"Let go of me," Stiles tried to pull his arm free.

"I should turn you over my knee," Derek snapped.

Stiles' mouth dropped open and his dick absolutely did not twitch in his boxers. "What the fuck did you say?"

"She has a bag of rare herbs and I cannot believe you're caught up in this shit. I can't believe my brother's caught up in this shit."

Stiles' eyes widened. "How the fuck did you know that?"

Derek didn't answer.

Big surprise there.

"How did you know?" Stiles asked again. He was getting really tired of having to repeat himself.

"You get into bed. I'll go talk to Allison. Tomorrow, I'll take care of the herbs."

"You can't tell me what to do," Stiles said, voice loud.

Derek took a step forward so they were standing nose-to-nose. "You've ignored me for years and now you lay this shit on my doorstep. This is not a good situation, Stiles. This shit is fucked up. You'll do exactly what I told you to do and get in the fucking bed, and you'll keep your mouth shut and pray that the man who wants those herbs back is patient enough to wait through the night."

"I haven't been ignoring you for years!" Stiles shouted, because apparently that was what he was focusing on.

Derek narrowed his eyes, "Bullshit."

Okay, so Stiles had been trying to ignore him for years, but it was a little hard to do it when his best friend was also Derek's little brother and their parents were friends.

"I bought you Christmas presents!" Stiles said instead.

"That doesn't count," Derek huffed, annoyed.

Stiles made a choked sound. "What do you mean, doesn't count? Are you saying you didn't like the Led Zeppelin box set?"

"I didn't say I didn't like it. I'm saying it doesn't count."

"I thought you liked Led Zeppelin!"

Derek edged closer, looking angry. "Stiles, this isn't something you can cute your way out of."

Stiles blinked at him, because as of two seconds ago he had no idea he could cute his way out of anything. So Stiles turned on his back and screamed, "Fine!" before stalking to the bed. Just as he was about to reach it he whipped around. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm gonna calm Allison down, try to get a hold of Scott, make a call that should set some minds at ease and tomorrow, I'll take Allison to get the herbs and make the delivery."

"Well then," Stiles said, voice a little high. "Thank you."

Derek started to turn, stopped, and looked back at Stiles. "Normally, I charge six hundred dollars an hour for this."

Stiles blinked at him. "For what?"

"This go-between shit," Derek answered.

Stiles whistled.

No wonder Derek lived in this place.

And could afford the Camaro.

"You do? Why?"

Derek sighed. "Because, I make the phone call tonight that puts me in the middle of things. And if I don't deliver, it'll be me they'll shoot at. I don't like getting shot at."

Stiles shook his head and bit his lip. "I don't like it either."

Derek stared at him like he couldn't believe what just came out of Stiles' mouth. It was a common occurrence for them.

"I don't think Allison has that kind of money," Stiles said. "You wouldn't consider a family discount, would you?"

"She's not family," Derek shook his head.

"She's dating Scott," Stiles protested.

"Still not family," Derek said. "Not yet."

Stiles' pressed his lips together, annoyed. "Good to know, but I wasn't talking about her. I meant you and me."

"We're not family either."

"Yes, we are," Stiles said. "Five years ago you told me I was like a little brother to you."

Something dawned on Derek. Stiles could see the flicker in his eyes, and whatever it was it made his face soften a little bit from the seriously pissed off look he had before. Stiles would go as far as saying he looked _pleased_.

"That was then, this is now," Derek said, voice low.

"What does _that_ mean?" Stiles narrowed his eyes at him.

"It means it's not Allison who's going to pay."

Stiles gaped at him. He couldn't _believe_ this.

"I don't have that kind of money."

"You're not gonna pay me in money," and Derek actually smirked at him.

Stiles gaped.

That fucking bastard.

"And what the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"We'll talk about it tomorrow."

"We'll talk about it now," Stiles hissed.

"Go get some sleep," Derek ordered.

"Quit bossing me around," Stiles snapped.

Derek came closer and crowded him against the wall. "You get on the bed or I'll tie you to it myself."

Derek's faced had gone back to seriously pissed off, and as someone who liked to have his balls where they were, Stiles said, "Okay."

Stiles honestly tried to stay awake and eavesdrop on what Derek was telling Allison, but getting shot at took a lot out of him. So he got into the bed, and promptly fell asleep. When he woke up it was to find something warm and hard pressed against his back, and something heavy draped around his waist.

Derek.

Derek McHale was in bed with him.

Derek McHale was in bed with him and Stiles' dick was totally okay with this plan.

Holy fucking _shit_.

Stiles moved forward, his idea of sleeping on the floor sounding a whole lot better right now.

The heavy arm around his waist tightened.

Stiles tried to mind-control his dick into getting soft.

"Stop moving," Derek mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

Stiles stomach did not fluttered as Derek splayed his hand flat on his abs.

_Fuck._

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked.

"I _was_ sleeping," Derek's voice was still husky.

"I mean in this bed," Stiles explained, his brain refusing to work properly with Derek this close to him.

"It's my bed," Derek said simply.

True.

But it still didn't mean Stiles was okay with it.

"I'm going to sleep on the floor," Stiles said, trying to move.

"No you're not," Derek pulled him close.

Stiles hesitated for a moment, trying to concentrate on the thought of Derek's parents having sex to keep his dick down.

It was kind of working.

"Then I'm going to sleep on the other side of the bed."

"No you're not."

What the _fuck_?

"Why?"

"Because you already hit me in the chest three times, kicked me in the shin twice, and almost slapped me in the face once."

Oh.

Stiles had heard that before.

"I'm kind of an active sleeper."

"No shit," Derek huffed.

Stiles thought about his options.

He could stay here and risk Derek finding out about his predicament or he could go cuddle with Allison on the couch. After he stopped by the bathroom to take care of things.

"I'll go sleep with Allison."

Derek's reaction was instantaneous.

"The hell you will."

He had his pissed off voice on.

Stiles was stuck.

So he did what anyone in his place would do when faced with an angry Derek McHale.

Stiles closed his eyes, tried to relax, and slept.

He woke up again hours later in an entirely different position. Derek on his back with Stiles sprawled half on top of him. At least his dick wasn't hard anymore.

Stiles blinked at the clock on the nightstand. It was almost seven in the morning.

He'd always been an early riser, even if he went to bed late. Over the years, that only meant he perfected the art to take cat naps in the middle of the afternoon.

Today was going to be a cat nap kind of day, he could feel it.

Stiles moved to get up but was stopped as the arm on his lower back tightened and Derek's fingers curled into his hip.

"Fuck, what is it with you?" he grumbled.

"It's morning."

Derek opened one eye to check the clock.

"Barely," he said, snapping his eye shut.

"I'm gonna make coffee."

This apparently was a good enough reason for Derek to let him go.

"Do you have an extra toothbrush?" Stiles asked.

"Probably."

Of course he had one. That was a stupid question. He probably had an extra box full of spare toothbrushes so all his one nightstands could go home with their teeth cleaned.

So of course Stiles opened his mouth to ask, "Do you have a box full of extra toothbrushes?"

Both of Derek's eyes snapped opened and focused on him.

Stiles jumped out of the bed, grabbed his clothes and ran to the bathroom. He found an extra toothbrush and started brushing his teeth. After he was done Stiles pulled his jeans on, deciding not to change out of Derek's shirt.

He might as well keep it.

Stiles padded into the kitchen, trying not to wake Allison. He went looking for Derek's coffeemaker, finding it and making his coffee strong. He was concentrating on the stream of liquid pouring into his cup – he always left his cup there before he change it for the pot - so he was a little surprised when hands settled on the counter on either side of him and he felt the warm press of a body against his back.

Stiles looked over his shoulder to find Derek staring back at him.

His hair was wild in a very sexy way, his eyes soft, and his shoulders bare.

Stiles didn't dare to look down to his chest.

"What are you doing?" because even after years of practice on how to not let Derek's hotness affect him, having him this close was making things a little difficult.

Derek glanced over his shoulder.

"Are you making coffee for everyone, or just for you?"

"Just for me, now" Stiles said.

He turned back to the coffee, switching the cup for the pot so it could be filled all the while wondering why Derek hadn't moved.

Then he did, tracing his nose from the nape of Stiles' neck to right behind his ear.

"Are you _sniffing _me?" Stiles asked, incredulous.

And a little turned on.

Derek grunted, resting his chin on Stiles' shoulder, sliding a hand across his stomach and pulling Stiles to him.

Stiles' body went very, very still.

"We need to talk," Derek said into his ear.

Stiles stood there, frozen, coffee cup in hand, nowhere near awake enough to have Derek this close to him and react properly.

"I need milk," was what came out of Stiles' mouth.

Without moving his body from Stiles', Derek's hand left his middle. Stiles heard the fridge open and close and stared when Derek placed the gallon of milk in front of him on the counter.

"Thank you," he said politely.

He poured some milk into his cup and concentrated on not moving. He took a sip of his coffee and tried to get his mind back together.

"Do you want to tell me why you have me pressed up against the counter?" Stiles asked.

Next thing he knew Derek turned him around and moved further into Stiles' space.

Derek manhandling him shouldn't be so hot.

"Why have you been avoiding me?" Derek asked.

Stiles had three options here.

He could tell Derek the truth, lie to his face, or play stupid.

"What?" Stiles decided to go with the last one.

"You heard me," Derek answered.

"I haven't been avoiding you," Stiles said, because he was a fan of ignoring things until they went away.

"You're lying," Derek said. "Last time we had a family dinner you got up in the middle of mom's dessert presentation and said you forgot to feed your dog."

"So?"

"So you don't have a dog."

"I could have one!" Stiles protested.

Derek smiled.

Well, it was actually more like a ghost of a smile than anything else, but it was still there and it was still aimed at him.

"Alright, I'm running out of patience," Derek said. "You have two choices. You can either tell me what's been bothering you for the past five years or I'll tell you how you're going to pay me back for all this Allison shit."

"Do I have a third option?" Stiles asked, not liking where this was going.

Derek shook his head no.

"Then I choose option number two," Stiles said, because there was no way he was going to tell Derek anything.

Derek's ghost of a smiled widened into a smirk. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Stiles blinked at him. "Why?"

He wasn't sure he was going to like the answer.

Derek just kept on smirking.

"Why can't you _not_ be an asshole for five minutes?" Stiles asked, a little incredulous.

"I was always an asshole," Derek shrugged.

That was mostly true, but still.

"For fuck's sake, just tell me what the fuck you want me to do," Stiles snapped at him.

As soon as the words "do" were out of his mouth, Derek moved.

Stiles' coffee cup was gone, Derek had his hands on his ass, and then he was being lifted up and onto the counter, Derek settling between his legs. One of his arms went around Stiles waist while a hand was grabbing at Stiles' neck, and Stiles had to spread his legs opened unless he wanted to knee Derek in the stomach. Derek pulled him close, and before Stiles could say anything Derek kissed him.

This was the first time in his life that Derek initiated something like this with him, and holy _fuck._

Derek was a good kisser.

A really fucking great kisser.

And this position and Derek's tongue down his throat was doing _things_ to Stiles.

When Derek pulled back, Stiles shouted, "What the _fuck_ was that?"

Derek just smirked at him and said, "Advanced payment on Allison's deal."

Stiles stared at him, thrown.

Derek's gaze went from his face and down his chest. "Is this my shirt?" he asked, hand coming from around Stiles' waist to touch the shirt, very close to Stiles' nipple. Stiles slapped his hand away, feeling his nipple harden and hoping Derek didn't notice.

"Yes, this is your shirt, and what do you mean by advanced payment?"

Derek's hand went to Stiles' hip, pulling Stiles to him again.

This was not brotherly behavior.

And Stiles had no idea what was going on.

And he wasn't sure he wanted it to stop.

"I do this for Allison, you sleep with me."

Stiles stared at him, open mouthed and stunned.

"Not like last night," Derek kept going. "This time we'll both be naked and there'll be orgasms."

Stiles' mouth only opened wider.

"I'll expect your participation," Derek said. "Your _avid_ participation."

Stiles choked on his own spit. "You're kidding."

Derek shook his head no.

Stiles blinked at him and said, "You're already involved. You made the call last night."

"I can back out of the deal this morning. Allison will be on her own."

"She's your sister-in-law!" Stiles shouted, not believing his ears.

"She's a stupid girl who got herself into something she shouldn't have. She did not only drag you into this, but my brother as well," Derek said, voice low. "Right now I couldn't care less if they decided to clean up after her and shot her in the head."

Stiles was breathing hard, staring at Derek wide eyed. "They saw me, Derek. They know I know about this."

Derek shook his head again. "They know Scott is my brother, so they already know not to mess with him. During the call all I had to tell them was that I was getting involved because you were mine, too. They won't do anything to you."

Stiles sputtered. "I'm not your fucking property!"

"You will be tonight."

Stiles gaped at him, hitting him hard on the chest. "I cannot believe you said that!"

"You want it," Derek said, calm.

"I don't want anything from you!" Stiles screamed.

That was a lie.

He wanted a lot of things from Derek, just not like this.

"Is that why you tried to stick your tongue down my throat when you were fifteen?"

Fuck.

"And sixteen?"

_Shit_.

"And seventeen?"

"I get it, you asshole," Stiles hissed. "You told me you saw me like your little brother."

"I lied," Derek shrugged.

"What?" Stiles shrieked.

"I was into some dangerous shit back then," Derek said. "I didn't need a guy hung up on me when I didn't even know if I'd be coming home alive. I didn't have time to worry if I was going to leave you broken if anything happened to me."

Stiles' stomach twisted. The thought that something might have happened to Derek back then was just. No. He wouldn't think about it.

"When I got back, you were dating. I thought you were over me," Derek shrugged. "But then that guy was gone and you kept avoiding me. And then you started bringing other guys around. I figured since you had no problem throwing yourself at me before, you'd make a move when you were ready. But you never did."

Derek leaned closer to him. "And I'm done with waiting for you to do something, and I'm definitely done watching other guys get their hands all over you."

"I don't want this," Stiles whispered, and the lie was obvious even to his ears.

Derek leaned in even closer. "Bullshit."

And Derek was kissing him again. Sucking on his bottom lip, coaxing Stiles' mouth opened with his tongue, his arms around Stiles' waist pulling him closer. All Stiles could do was melt into the kiss.

Because this was _Derek_.

But then Derek was tearing his lips away from Stiles' as his head shot up and he looked over his shoulder. His body tensed, waiting.

Then Melissa and Scott came into the kitchen. Melissa's hand went to her throat, and Stiles could swear he saw her eyes filling with tears. Scott just covered his eyes with his hands and screamed, "Why would you do this to me? I cannot unsee this, Derek! That's my best friend!"

Derek started chuckling.

Stiles closed his eyes and sighed.

His _life_.

"What's going on here?" Melissa asked, a hopeful look on her face.

Stiles opened his mouth to answer but Derek was faster.

"Stiles and I are together now."

Stiles' entire body froze, and he wanted nothing more in this moment than to beat the shit out of Derek.

Melissa gasped and covered her face in her hands, laughing. Scott stared at them with a mixture of disgust and happiness in his face.

Stiles was too busy trying to breathe normally.

"Scott, Stiles and I need to talk to you for a second," Derek said, grabbing Stiles by the arm and moving away from the counter. He stopped by Melissa and kissed her cheek, "Hey, mom."

Melissa smiled at both of them, shooing them out of the kitchen. "Go talk to your brother. I'll make breakfast."

Derek walked them to his bedroom, turning so he was standing in front of Scott. "I need the bag Allison gave it to you."

Scott stared at him dumbly for a few seconds. "Why?"

"She asked me to get it for her," Derek said.

"I don't have it," Scott shrugged.

Stiles opened his mouth, ready to scream at Scott, but Derek spoke first, "What do you mean, you don't have it?"

"I don't have it," Scott shrugs again. "I left it in Jackson's car last and forgot to ask for it back."

"You left it with Jackson," Stiles repeated. "Jackson, who is out of town with Lydia? That Jackson?"

"Yeah," Scott said, then narrowed his eyes. "What's going on?"

"You should ask your girlfriend," Derek said through gritted teeth.

"Speaking of girlfriend, where's Allison?" Scott asked.

"She's asleep on the couch," Stiles said.

"No, she's not," Scott frowns in confusion.

"Yes, she is," Stiles said.

"No, she's not," Scott said again. "There's no one asleep on the couch."

"Fuck," Derek said, moving from the bedroom to the living room.

Stiles went after him, only to find the blankets and pillow on the couch.

No Allison.

"That fucking bitch," Derek snarled, walking back into his bedroom and getting dressed.

"Hey," Scott followed him, Stiles right behind. "That's my girlfriend!"

Derek turned to Scott, a murderous look on his face.

"That's your girlfriend whose aunt stole something from someone. A very important something from an even more important someone," Derek said, voice low. "She left it with you, knowing it could come to bite you in the ass, and you lost it like the irresponsible little shit you can be sometimes. And because she didn't have it with her when people came to collect what was theirs, they shot at her. They shot at her while she was with _Stiles_. Your best friend could've been hurt, could've been fucking _dead_, so don't you dare try to defend her in front of me."

"Derek," Stiles said, feeling oddly touched at Derek's protectiveness of him and mad as fuck for saying that about Allison.

"She wouldn't do that," Scott said, shaking his head.

"She _did_," Derek snarled at him.

"You mean her _family_ did," Scott snapped back at Derek.

Stiles stared at his best friend, wide eyed. "You knew? You knew her family was like the fucking mob and you didn't think to tell anyone?"

Scott shrugged, looking sheepish. "She asked me not to. And she told me she didn't have anything to do with them anymore."

Derek and Stiles both stared at Scott, stunned.

Derek just shook his head at his little brother. They were a lot alike when it came to Scott. Neither of them could stay mad at him for long, so most of the time they didn't even try.

So Derek grabbed Stiles by the chin and crushed their mouths together. It was a hard, deep, and serious kiss, and Stiles had to swallow the moan that threatened to break out of him.

When Derek pulled back, he said, "I have plans for you. Don't leave the condo."

Stiles nodded.

He had every intention of getting out of here as soon as he could.

"Stiles," Derek said, obviously knowing what was going on in his head. "You get out and I'll come looking for you."

"Ugh," Stiles said, annoyed. "We haven't even slept together and you already don't trust me."

Scott made a sound of protest at the comment, earning himself a glare from Derek. Stiles only tried not to laugh. Being subjected to years of having to watch Allison and Scott sucking face was enough not to make him feel bad about this.

Derek turned back at Stiles. "I've known you all your life. You can never stay out of trouble, especially when Scott's involved."

"Hey!" both Stiles and Scott protested.

"You both know it's true," Derek said, eyeing them.

Stiles pouted.

The sides of Derek's eyes crinkled as he took in Stiles' pursed lips. "We aren't done yet."

"Yes, we are," Stiles said, serious.

Derek's face returned to his scowl. "This is happening between us," he threatened.

Stiles was not even remotely turned on by that.

Nope.

Not at all.

"No, it's not," Stiles snapped.

It wasn't much of a protest as it was him not liking to be told what to do.

"We'll talk about it later," Derek said.

"We'll talk about it now," Stiles hissed.

Derek's eyes narrowed. "Do I need to fucking kiss you again?"

"No, you don't," Scott said.

Derek flipped him off, still staring at Stiles.

"No, you don't," Stiles muttered.

"When I get back, you better be here waiting for me," Derek said, pointing a finger at Stiles.

"Sure thing, _honey_," Stiles replied sarcastically.

Not on his fucking _life._

Stiles waited for Derek to get out of the room before he turned to face Scott.

"We need to find Allison before your brother does," Stiles told him.

"Yeah," Scott nodded. "We do."

Stiles went to take a shower while Scott tried - and failed - to contact Jackson. They had to stop at the bookstore to make sure everything was okay and to see if Greenberg would be able to manage the store for the day.

Greenberg wasn't good with people.

At all.

So Stiles and Scott stayed at the bookstore until after the morning rush ended. People were not happy to find out Allison wasn't handling the espresso machine, but Stiles was glad to see there weren't any deaths caused by coffee deprived and very angry people.

Stiles sent Scott over to Allison's apartment. It wasn't that unusual for Scott to stop by whenever he wanted to see her, so Stiles didn't think there'd be any problems if Derek somehow found out about it.

At least he didn't think so.

But he knew Derek wouldn't shoot Scott for being worried about his girlfriend.

Maybe.

Probably.

Stiles hoped not.

Stiles' phone rang, the screen flashing "Dad" as it vibrated on top of the counter.

"Hey, Daddy-o," Stiles answered.

"Why did I have to hear about you and Derek from Melissa?"

Oh.

_Fuck_.

"We're… It's not… I…," Stiles sputtered.

"I knew this was going to happen sooner or later," the Sheriff said. "I just thought then when it did happen I'd hear it from my own son first."

"Dad," Stiles whined.

"I'm just saying, Stiles," the Sheriff went on. "But I'm happy for you, kid. This is a good thing. And I know you've been pining for Derek since, well, ever since you were born, so it's good this is happening."

Stiles swallowed, not knowing what to say. He didn't want to ruin this for his dad. Or Melissa. They deserved all the happiness they got.

"Yeah," Stiles sighed. "It's a good thing."

After he got off the phone with his dad, Stiles decided it'd be a good idea to call Laura about Allison's disappearance.

The first thing out of her mouth was, "I can't believe you and Derek got together."

Stiles groaned. "Can we forget about Derek and me for a second? I need your help with something."

"Sure thing," Laura said. "You're family now."

Stiles closed his eyes and ran a hand over his face. "How would I go about finding a missing person?"

"Who is it?" Laura asked, tone serious.

"Allison," Stiles bit down on his bottom lip.

"Shit," Laura said. "How long has she been missing?"

"About twelve hours? I don't really know," Stiles admitted. "I saw her last night, but she didn't come to work this morning."

Stiles decided not to mention anything about the stolen herbs Allison left with Scott. And that the last time he'd seen her had been after Derek freed her from the duct tapes.

"Then she's not missing yet," Laura told him. "But is that why Derek is also after her? Because you were worried and asked him to?"

Stiles blinked at the stack of books in front of him. "What?"

"He told me to keep an eye on things and call him if I ran into her," Laura explained.

"Can you call me too if you find her?" Stiles asked, hopeful. "I'm worried about her."

"Sure thing," Laura hung up.

Stiles looked at his phone and scrolled down until he found the text message Derek had sent him with his new number.

He answered on the first ring. "What."

"Wow, dude," Stiles snorted. "Could you sound a little more annoyed?"

"Where the fuck are you?"

Stiles blinked, not expecting this reaction from Derek.

"I'm at the bookstore."

"I told you not to leave the apartment."

"You also told me I can't ever stay out of trouble," Stiles said. "I'm merely meeting your expectations of me."

"Stiles," Derek grunted. "People were shooting at you last night."

"So? I still have a business to run," Stiles snapped. "And you need to tell your mother to stop telling people we're together."

"We are together," and that coming from Derek's mouth did not make Stiles shiver.

"No, we're not," Stiles protested. He still had some dignity left, for fuck's sake.

Derek ignored him. "What time do you close?"

"Why?" Stiles asked, narrowing him eyes.

"Just answer the damn question," Derek grunted at him.

"At seven."

"I'm picking you up at the store," Derek said, hanging up before Stiles could say anything.

Stiles stared at the screen of his phone, lips pressed in a thin line. Derek was _infuriating_. Who the fuck did he think he was to go bossing Stiles around? Derek didn't own him. He wasn't some fucking piece of furniture to be _owned_.

Stiles Stilinski was his own man.

And that was why he left the store about half an hour before closing time.

Scott had come back from Allison's apartment saying she wasn't there, and Stiles tried his best to reassure his best friend that his girlfriend was safe. After all, Allison kind of was like the female Hawkeye, so they knew that if something _did_ happen, she'd know how to defend herself. But that still wasn't enough to erase the kicked puppy dog look on Scott's face, so Stiles offered to stop by Allison's if Scott closed the shop.

"Why do you think she'd talk to you and not me?" Scott said, scowling at Stiles.

Stiles thought he should be getting some lessons with Derek on how to scowl at people, because Scott's wasn't nearly as scary as his older brother's.

"I was with her when it all happened," Stiles shrugged. "And maybe she just doesn't want to put you in danger. Do you think she'd forgive herself if something happened to you? She loves you too much."

Stiles tried not to gag as the last words came out of his mouth, but Scott seemed appeased, though, getting a dopey look on his face.

He was now parked in front of Allison's apartment building, trying not to draw attention to himself, hoping she'd eventually come back here so he could talk to her. He was busy staring at the other side of the street when someone tapped on the back passenger window.

Stiles jumped on his seat, startled, and looked over to find some guy staring at him, a friendly smile on his face.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," the guy said.

Stiles took in the guys' smile, moving on to notice that the guy's arms were _huge_. Like, Derek kind of huge. And the t-shirt he was wearing stretched nicely over his chest. He was still smiling at Stiles.

"Okay," Stiles said, blinking at him.

"You waiting for someone?" the guy asked, pointing a finger to Allison's building.

Just as Stiles turned his head to follow the guy's finger, the guy reached a hand into the car, grabbed the back of his neck, and slammed his face into the steering wheel. Stiles brought a hand to his face, hissing in pain, and before he knew it his door was being opened and he was being dragged outside. Stiles kicked and struggled, managing to connect a punch in the guy's stomach. That caused the guy to loosen his hold on him and Stiles took that moment to scream his fucking lungs out.

And that's when the guy clocked in him the face and he blacked out.

Stiles opened his eyes to find himself staring at the ceiling. His head felt fuzzy, his face hurt, and he had no idea where he was. He tried to sit up, but immediately laid back down, his head throbbing.

"What happened to his face?" came a voice from his left.

"I had to silence him," said the guy who punched Stiles in the face. "He was making too much noise."

Stiles turned his head to look back at them. His vision was kind of blurry, but he could make out the blonde hair and serial killer stare from where he was just fine.

"You okay?" the blonde woman asked.

Stiles just blinked at her.

Was she serious?

"Are you serious?" Stiles blurted out.

"I'm sorry about this," she said, not sounding sorry at all.

Stiles gulped, trying to sit again. He was more successful this time, only feeling a little bit nauseous as he did so.

"Who _are_ you?" Stiles asked.

If he was going to be kidnapped and punched in the face, then he was going to take names.

"I'm Kate," the woman said. "You might know my niece, Allison."

Stiles gaped at her. He didn't know what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn't _that_.

"And you're Stiles," Kate said, smiling creepily at him. "You're Derek's."

Stiles really wanted to shout that he _wasn't_, that Derek didn't _own_ him, but he'd take whatever protection he could get right now. If pretending to be Derek's boyfriend would keep him alive, he was willing to play along.

So he nodded.

"Derek always had good taste," Kate smiled, and Stiles did not appreciate the way her eyes were raking over him.

"I'm looking for Allison," she continued. "Do you know where she is?"

Stiles snorted. "Do you really think I'd be parked outside of her apartment building if I had any idea where she is?"

Something dangerous changed in Kate's eyes, and Stiles thought this wasn't a good time to let his mouth run free. It's not like he could help it, really. Sarcasm was his only defense.

"She lost something of mine," Kate said.

"I know," Stiles nodded.

"I was supposed to get it back this morning. Do you know what happened?"

"She was staying with us," Stiles started. "At Derek's condo. But Derek and I got kind of… busy. And she left."

"Busy," Kate's creepy smile back in her face. "Do you know where Allison might be?"

Stiles shook his head. He really didn't. And it's not like he'd tell Kate if he did know where she was. He figured Allison didn't talk about her family for a reason, and this seemed like a pretty good one to Stiles.

"Those are some very expensive herbs, Stiles," Kate told him.

"I don't know where she is," Stiles said, licking his lips. "I really wish I knew. The people at the bookstore are starting to get mad we're missing our coffee goddess."

Before Kate could say anything at him, the door to the room they were in burst open.

Stiles' shoulders slumped in relief at seeing Derek walk into the room.

Derek looked seriously pissed. Just one look at him and Stiles could see why these guys were afraid of him.

He looked _murderous_.

And kind of hot.

Derek's eyes found his, taking in Stiles' bruised face. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

"Why, hello handsome," Kate smiled at Derek.

And Stiles fought the urge to pummel Kate through the ground at seeing her look at Derek like he was some kind of exotic food to be tasted.

"I thought we had an understanding," Derek said.

"We do," Kate said. "Things just got a little out of hand."

"That seems to be happening a lot these days," Derek narrowed his eyes, then tilted his head in Stiles' direction. "Who touched him?"

Kate didn't move, but Stiles looked to the guy who was still standing in the room. Derek didn't miss this, turning his head slowly to follow Stiles' gaze. It was kind of amazing to see a person turning about three shades paler when subjected to Derek's icy stare. Derek didn't do anything, though. Only nodded. The only move he made was to walk closer to Stiles and pull him up.

"It was nice meeting you, Stiles," Kate said calmly as Derek walked Stiles out.

"The pleasure was all yours," Stiles said, leaning against Derek.

Derek didn't say anything.

He didn't say anything as he put Stiles into the passenger seat of the Camaro, and he didn't say anything as he started the car and shot from the curb. He didn't say anything for a whole five minutes after it and Stiles was getting anxious.

"Derek?"

Derek gripped the steering wheel harder, his knuckles going white. Then he reached inside his pocket, got his cell phone out and punched in a number.

"Pick up the guy at Argent's and take him to the office," Derek said, ending the call and tossing the cell phone on the console.

"How did you know where I was?" Stiles asked. And thank fuck Derek did know where to find him, because Kate had freaked him out, and Stiles was glad to be away from her.

"I traced the GPS on your phone."

"_What_?" Stiles said, loudly. "How?"

"I have a guy," Derek shrugs.

"You have a guy," Stiles laughed, a little bit hysterical.

Derek turned to stare at him, face in a blank mask, before turning back to the road. He was still angry.

"I have guys," Derek said. "And a girl."

"Oh," Stiles didn't know that. "You know tracking someone's cell is illegal, right?"

"You know I don't give a fuck, right?"

Derek continued driving, leaving Stiles to stare at him open mouthed. Stiles sat back on his seat, his arms crossed over his chest, and thought about what had happened.

Stiles had been kidnapped.

He had been fucking _kidnapped_ and punched in the face and dragged to some crazy woman's _lair_ so he could be fucking _threatened_ because Allison had kept secrets and because of Scott's ability to forget things.

His hands started shaking.

Derek parked into his spot on the underground garage, got out of the car, walked over to Stiles' side and opened the door. They walked into the elevator, Derek's hand at the small of Stiles' back.

Stiles was still shaking.

They walked into the apartment and Stiles followed Derek to the kitchen. Stiles was freaking out so bad he didn't even had the mind to be surprised when Derek took a gun out of the back waistband of his jeans and placed it on the counter. Derek then turned back to Stiles and opened his mouth.

"Shut up!" Stiles screamed, his body trembling.

Derek stared at him, stunned.

"I just got _kidnapped_, Derek! Kidnapped! By some woman's errand boy, and he fucking smashed by face into a steering wheel! And then punched me! And it fucking hurt!"

Derek made a move to come towards him, and Stiles took a step back.

"Don't fucking touch me right now," Stiles shouted. "Allison is _missing_ because she somehow forgot to tell us she comes from a family of fucking _criminals_. And not only did she get Scott involved in all of this she got me _shot at_. There are some fucking herbs out there and no one can get a hold of Jackson or Lydia and people came to talk to _me_ about them. Like I'm fucking hiding them up my ass or something. And I think what you did to take me out of there means I owe you another favor, and I'm not okay with that," Stiles took a deep breath. "Not to mention, I'm hungry. I'm _starving_, actually. I couldn't get breakfast because of all this shit and I had a bag of chips for lunch, Derek. Chips!"

"Can I touch you now?" Derek asked, voice low and soft when he figured the screaming was over.

Stiles made a sound at the back of his throat and nodded, and that was all it took for Derek to wrap his arms around Stiles' waist. Stiles rested his forehead against Derek's, placed his hands on his chest, over his heart, and focused on matching their breathing.

"I got shot at," Stiles whispered. "And kidnapped."

Derek tightened his hold on him. "We need to get you some food."

"Curly fries," Stiles mumbled.

Derek nodded, but didn't let him go. "I told you to stay in the condo."

"I don't often do what I'm told," Stiles shrugged. "You know this."

Derek huffed, sounding more exasperated and amused than angry, so Stiles took that as a victory.

"You better be worth the damage you're going to cause," Derek told him.

"I'm always worth it."

Stiles leaned back and licked his lips, his tongue grazing Derek's bottom lip in the process.

The doorbell rang.

Derek cursed under his breath, pushing Stiles away from him to go answer the door. Two minutes later their entire families stepped into the kitchen. All conversation stopped as they stared at Stiles.

"What happened to your face?" the Sheriff shouted.

Stiles' eyes widened. He had no idea what his face looked like, but by his dad's reaction he guessed it must look pretty bad. His dad glanced at Derek and then back at him.

"Did he hit you?"

Stiles took in a sharp breath. Derek kept his eyes on the Sheriff, his face shutting down.

Stiles' dad loved Derek. But he knew things about Derek's past and what Derek did for a living that Stiles had no idea about. That still didn't mean Stiles didn't want to grab his dad by the shoulders and shake the fuck out of him.

"Dad," Stiles said, affronted. "He didn't _hit me_. This is Derek. Sure, he looks scary most of the time, but he'd never hurt me."

It came out sappy, but Stiles knew that was true.

Today proved it.

"Of course Derek didn't hit him, John," Melissa scolded him. "I raised my boys better than that. But what happened?"

Stiles looked at Scott, who nodded at him. "You okay, man?"

"Yeah," Stiles smiled a little at his best friend.

Melissa narrowed her eyes at the exchange. "What did you two do?"

"Scott and I were playing catch with some books," Stiles answered quickly. "I wasn't fast enough and one of them hit me in the face."

Melissa looked skeptical. It was a pretty dumb excuse, but they were known to be pretty dumb sometimes. His dad just shook his head at both of them, and ran a hand over his face. Once the killer look left his face, Peter looked slightly amused.

Laura and Derek were exchanging glances, Laura sighing and Derek draping one of his arms over Stiles' shoulder. Stiles didn't know what that was about.

"I'm hungry," Stiles blurted out. Everyone turned their heads to stare at him.

"That's good," Peter said, taking the change in subject. "We just came here to pick you up so we could all go out to dinner."

"Curly fries?" Stiles asked, sounding hopeful.

He heard Derek snort beside him.

"You bet your ass," his dad smiled.

* * *

Stiles woke up in Derek's bed.

Stiles woke up in Derek's bed with Derek in it, pressed half on top of him, keeping him in place. In two nights Derek had managed to do what many others had failed to before, and that was to keep Stiles in place at night.

Stiles didn't know if that was a good thing.

He also didn't know if he wanted to find out.

His face still hurt like a motherfucker, and Stiles needed to _get out_. He tried to disentangle himself from Derek without waking him up, and failed.

"What," Derek mumbled against the skin of his neck.

"I need to make coffee," Stiles tried, thinking that if yesterday that was a good enough reason to let him go, today would be too.

Derek only let him go so he could move on top of Stiles, his lips at Stiles' shoulder and his hand resting against Stiles' hip. Stiles could feel how hard Derek was against his stomach.

"Get off me," Stiles said, pushing at Derek's shoulder.

"This is happening," Derek said, biting at the skin of Stiles' neck and rocking his hips forward.

Stiles was not proud of the noise made.

"Derek," he breathed. "Stop it."

Derek pulled back from marking his neck.

"Give me one good reason not to do this," Derek said, looking him straight in the eye.

Stiles opened and closed his mouth, his mind blank.

"That's what I thought," Derek dipped his head down to kiss him.

And the phone rang.

"Are you going to answer that?" Stiles asked against Derek's lips.

"Nope," Derek said, crushing their mouths together.

As much as Stiles was _not okay_ with this, he was _really fucking okay_ with it. This was _Derek_, the Derek he had been in love with since he was five, and Derek had his tongue down his throat, and Stiles could run his finger through Derek's hair and bite down on his bottom lip. Derek was letting him do this, touch him and kiss him, and after wanting to get his hands and mouth on and all over him for so long, Stiles was not going to pass this up.

Derek pulled away from him, bringing a hand to cup Stiles' jaw and run a thumb over Stiles' lips.

"Love your mouth," Derek murmured. "I've always loved your mouth."

Stiles went back to kissing him, and just as he was about to bring a hand down between them, the doorbell rang, three times.

Derek wrenched his mouth away, staring at Stiles. "You get out of this bed, you'll regret it."

Stiles gaped at him as Derek got out of the bed, pulled some pants on, and walked out of the room to go answer the door. He cursed whoever it was for interrupting sexy times, leaving him hard and frustrated on the bed. He tried to get his dick under control and was not that successful.

Derek walked back into the room, straight to the bed, dipped his head down and kissed him, hard, wet, and deep.

"I need to head out," Derek said.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Stiles hit him in the shoulder.

Derek grabbed hold of his hand. "I'll pick you up at the bookstore as soon as I can. Try not to get yourself into too much trouble."

Stiles rolled his eyes.

Derek narrowed his.

"I promise I won't get into trouble," Stiles said, patting Derek on the cheek.

Derek huffed, pecked him lightly on the lips, walked straight to the bathroom, took a quick shower, got dressed, and left.

Stiles waited a few more seconds in bed before getting up and going to take a shower himself. He had to take care of his hard on – pouting a little that Derek didn't get to do it himself -, and then find some of Derek's clothes that fit.

Stiles really liked wearing Derek's shirts.

After he was dressed, he called Scott to come pick him up so they could go to the bookstore. They had some serious work to do if they wanted to find Allison.

They spent the morning working on coffee orders, calling everyone they could think of that knew where Allison might be, and helping whoever came looking for books. More than a few people expressed concern for the state of his face, and if he wasn't annoyed Stiles would feel kind of grateful.

The reason he was annoyed was because one of the people who came in as soon as the bookstore opened had stayed. That wouldn't really be a problem - he'd already brought three espressos since he arrived, so it wasn't like he was just hanging around -, if he hadn't been reading the same sports magazine for about four hours now. He had curly blond hair, and a jaw to kill for.

"Hello," Stiles said as he made his way towards the guy.

"Hey," he smiled. Stiles thought he looked cute, kind of like a puppy, with the curls and blue eyes and shit.

"You want another espresso?" Stiles asked.

"No, thank you," he said, and went back to reading.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at him. "Good magazine?"

"Yep."

Stiles had a vague idea of what was going on, so he reached out a hand and pushed the guy's curls over his forehead. The guy flinched like he had been burned, and his cellphone rang a minute later.

"Talk to me," he said as he answered the phone. Then he looked back at Stiles, gulped, and passed the phone to him.

Stiles raised an eyebrow, taking it. "Derek."

"Stop bothering Isaac," Derek grunted.

"What is he doing here?"

"He's there to make sure you don't get kidnapped again," Derek said, and then after a beat, "And shot at."

"How did you know I was bothering him?"

"I know things," Derek said.

"If you don't tell me, I'm taking Scott and moving to Canada."

Stiles didn't know if taking Scott anywhere would work as a bargaining chip, but he took his chances.

Silence, then Derek sighed.

"I had the bookstore wired," Derek said. "There are cameras around."

Stiles blinked, because he must have heard wrong.

"I think I heard you wrong. I thought you said you _wired_ the store. And there are _cameras_ around."

Derek didn't say anything.

"You know how you said you were going to pick me up as soon as you could?" Stiles asked through gritted teeth. "Don't fucking bother."

He hung up the phone, threw it at Isaac, and walked away.

* * *

Stiles didn't expect this to happen.

He didn't expect to go into Allison's apartment to see if he could find anything there, and he didn't expect to find what he did.

Even though his dad was a cop, he had never seen a dead body before.

Not like this, at least.

Not of someone who was _murdered_ and had a bullet hole in their head.

He also didn't expect for Derek to find him, and drag him back to his apartment, and call Laura to let her know there was a body in the middle of Allison's living room.

Derek didn't say a word until they were back at his condo, and for once Stiles didn't mind. He dragged Stiles by the arm until they were in his room, and threw one of his shirts in his face.

"Get ready for bed," Derek said.

"No," Stiles snapped.

He was angry. He was angry because if he took a moment to think about what he saw tonight, he was going to freak the fuck out. And he had already done that a lot in the last couple of days. He was done.

"You don't fucking own me," he spat. "So stop telling me what to do. I want to go home, back to _my _apart-"

Derek crowded him against the wall, hand on his neck, and for a second, Stiles was scared.

"Do you want to be next?" Derek asked.

Stiles stared at him in confusion, eyes wide.

"Do you want your dad to find you like that? Scott? My mom? Do you want them to find you with a bullet in your head?"

Stiles blinked back the wetness in his eyes, biting down on his bottom lip.

"No," he whispered.

"Then no more playing detective," Derek said, thumb brushing circled against Stiles' throat. "I told you these people were dangerous."

"Allison is my friend," was all Stiles could say. "She's Scott's girlfriend."

"You're more important than that," Derek told him. "So you'll leave this to me."

Stiles didn't say anything, just pushed away from the wall and Derek and walked to the bathroom. He found his toothbrush resting next to Derek's.

_What?_

He walked back to the bedroom and pulled the drawers to Derek's dresser open, his t-shirts staring back at him.

What the _fuck_?

Stiles proceeded to search around the room, finding his pairs of pants, shoes, and his boxers.

What the actual _fuck_?

He found Derek in the living room, sitting on the couch. Derek raised an eyebrow at him.

"Why are all my clothes here?" he asked, trying to keep his voice even.

"Because you're moving in," Derek said casually.

"I'm _what_?" Stiles screamed.

"It's easier to keep an eye on you if you're living here," Derek shrugged. "And I want you here. With me."

Stiles pushed down the warm feeling in his gut at Derek's words.

This was _not okay_.

"This is not okay," Stiles said, arms flailing. "You can't just move me in without me knowing about it. Without _talking_ to me first."

"I think I just did," Derek raised an eyebrow at him.

Stiles growled and stalked out of the living room. Back to Derek's bedroom, he started to take all of his clothes out of their respective places. Derek didn't get to do this. No, sir. He was in for a big surprised if he thought Stiles would just agree with whatever he said and did.

He was so distracted with being _angry_ and dumping his things on the floor that he didn't notice when Derek walked into the room. Next thing he knew he was being pushed to the bed, his left wrist being pulled over his head, and the click snap of handcuffs being closed.

"What the fuck?!" Stiles yelled, tugging at his wrist handcuffed to the headboard of Derek's bed.

"This is just to make sure you don't do anything stupid while I'm out," Derek said, pulling away from him.

"You can't leave me here, you fucking asshole," Stiles screamed, trying to get himself free.

When Derek's only move was to walk away from him, Stiles changed tactics. He went limp on the bed, pushing his bottom lip forward in a pout, and turned his big eyes in Derek's direction.

"I promise not to do anything stupid," Stiles whispered. "Just don't leave me here, please."

Derek's face softened for a second, before going back to his usual blankness. He shook his head, walking back over to Stiles just so he could lean down and kiss him quick on the lips.

"I won't take long," he said, then walked out of the room.

_Motherfucker_.

Stiles' wrist hurt.

It was probably because of all the struggling he did trying and failing to get his wrist free.

Normally, he could sleep just about anywhere, but he was soon learning that sleeping while handcuffed to a bed was not something he did. He couldn't get comfortable, and depending on the way he turned his body, it made his wrist hurt. He swore to himself that when Derek got back, he'd make sure to punch him in the stomach.

Stiles just didn't count on being so tired to do that when Derek finally got home.

Stiles heard the door open, saw Derek's shadow as he moved across the room and to the bed, disposing of his clothes on the way, felt the bed dip as he climbing into it.

No sooner Stiles' wrist was free, his hand was coming up to rub at the sensitive skin. Derek batted his hand away, taking hold of his arm and bringing Stiles' wrist to his lips. He placed a soft kiss there, and Stiles tried not to shiver at the feel of Derek's mouth on him.

"I'm sorry," Derek said.

"Fuck you," Stiles mumbled. He was too tired for this shit. "I'm going to sleep on the couch."

"No, you're not," Derek said, slipping his arms around Stiles' waist and pulling him in.

"I hate you," Stiles told him.

"No, you don't," Derek said, hiding his ghost-of-a-smile against Stiles' shoulder.

"I'm going to pass out now," Stiles said. "You better have apology pancakes waiting for me when I get up. And coffee. And stay in place when I punch you in the stomach."

"Punch me in the stomach?" Derek asked, sounding amused.

"I'd do it now, but my wrist hurts," Stiles told him, and felt Derek tense. "And I'm tired. So… tomorrow. Punching. You not moving."

There was a beat of silence before Derek kissed him on the shoulder and said, "Okay."

Stiles sighed and fell asleep.

He woke up without Derek pressed to his side, but with the smell of pancakes filling the room. He almost smiled a little, but then remembered why Derek was making him pancakes in the first place. He looked down at his bruised wrist, pursed his lips, and decided the bookstore was going to stay closed for the weekend.

He refused, after all this mess, to go to work.

Stiles got up from the bed and made his way to the bathroom to brush his teeth. He stared at his face in the mirror, wrinkling his nose at the bruise covering half his face.

It didn't look good.

It looked kind of badass.

But not good.

He got out of the bedroom and into the living room, making his way to the kitchen. Derek looked over his shoulder at him, gesturing to a cup of coffee sitting on the kitchen table. Stiles sat down, grabbed his cup, took a sip, and was left to stare at Derek while he finished making pancakes.

Derek's ass looked good in worn out sweatpants. _Really_ good. And Stiles was more than happy to stare at it first thing in the morning. He was so happy to stare at Derek's ass, naked back, abs, and chest that he was startled when Derek placed a hand on his wrist.

"You better punch me before the pancakes," Derek said.

Stiles blinked at him, then got up from his chair.

They were standing face to face, and Stiles couldn't really believe Derek was going to let him do this.

It gave him serious brownie points.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to-"

Stiles punched him.

Derek doubled over, a hand clutching his stomach.

Stiles opened and closed his hand. It was hurting a little. Derek's abs were like _steel_ and they sort of felt like it too.

Derek was staring at Stiles from under his lashes, breathing a little hard.

He looked proud.

"Thought I didn't have it in me, huh?" Stiles asked, feeling a little smug.

Derek shook his head. "I knew you had it in you," he said. "I just wanted to know if you knew it too."

Stiles huffed, sitting back on the chair and reaching for his cup of coffee. He stopped when he felt Derek's hand on his wrist again.

Stiles was holding his coffee cup with his left hand, the bruise from the handcuffs visible in the light.

Stiles looked from his bruise to Derek's frowny face.

Derek's eyes were glued to it.

"What?" Stiles asked, confused.

"You're hurt," was all Derek said.

Stiles gaped at him, because _seriously_? "That's what happens when someone leaves me handcuffed to their bed and I try to get myself free. I get bruised."

"I'm sorry," Derek said, and he looked so fucking guilty Stiles' stomach flipped.

"You should be," he said, because it was true. "But I'll forgive you as long as you never do that to me again."

Derek took his eyes from the bruise to look back at Stiles. "Not even if you asked me to?"

Stiles choked on his coffee.

Derek's lips twitched.

Stiles narrowed his eyes at him. "Where are my pancakes?"

Derek pointed to the stack of pancakes placed right in front of him.

Oh.

"Oh."

Derek sat down beside him, throwing one arm across Stiles' shoulders. "You okay this morning?"

Stiles brought some pancakes to his plate, covering them with syrup. "Yeah," he said. "I'm okay now."

"That's good," Derek nodded, bringing one hand to Stiles' face, turning him so that he was staring at Derek.

Stiles opened his mouth to say something, but then Derek kissed him.

His lips trailed from Stiles' mouth to his jaw and back to his ear.

"What are you doing?" Stiles asked, voice shaky. Derek's mouth on him felt _awesome_.

"I'm saying good morning," Derek explained, bringing his mouth to Stiles' neck, sucking at his pulse point.

Stiles was totally on board with the way Derek said good morning, but still.

"Derek, we need to talk."

"Okay," Derek said, licking at the hollow of Stiles' throat.

"_Derek_."

"I'm listening," he raked his teeth over Stiles' collarbone.

"We need to talk about us."

"Okay. Talk."

But before he could say anything, Derek was back to his mouth, licking his way inside, making Stiles moan against his lips.

Stiles pulled away. "I'm not so sure about this."

"No?" Derek asked, hand dropping from Stiles' face to cup him throw his boxers.

Stiles groaned, wanting nothing more than to give in to Derek, but this was important, dammit. "What if we fuck it up? What then? It's not just us, Derek. It's my dad, and your parents, and Scott and Laura, too."

Derek's body went completely still.

Derek grabbed Stiles' chair and turned it so that they were face-to-face. "You think you're just a quick fuck to me?"

Stiles blinked.

He kind of did think that, yes.

"Do you think I'd even touch you if it didn't mean anything?" Derek snarled.

Stiles held his breath, not knowing what to say.

He really hoped the answer was a big fat no.

"Because I wouldn't," Derek finished, serious.

Stiles jumped him.

And the doorbell rang, three times.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Stiles shouted. "Does the universe hate us? Every time we're about to have some sexy times together, you're phone rings. Or someone's at the door. Next time we're going to _my _apartment."

Derek shook his head, kissing him on the forehead. "Go take a shower and put some clothes on. When anyone rings the doorbell three times it means it's work related."

Well, that explained a lot.

Stiles huffed, annoyed, but got up and did as he was told.

He got back to the kitchen to find Derek, Isaac, and another man there.

"Hi, Isaac," Stiles waved.

When he was within reach, Derek whisked an arm around his waist, pulling him flush against his side. Stiles tried not to roll his eyes at the possessiveness show.

"And hello…" Stiles trailed off.

"Boyd," the other man said, nodding at him.

"We found Jackson and Lydia," Derek said.

Stiles' head snapped up to him. "Are they…?"

"They're okay," Derek reassured him. "They took a detour somewhere coming back, but they're okay."

Stiles breathed a sigh of relief. The doorbell rang again, and Stiles went to answer it before Derek could.

Laura smiled at him and walked into the apartment. As soon as they reached the kitchen her expression dropped, becoming serious. "We have to talk about last night, little brother."

"Yeah?" Derek arched an eyebrow at her.

"Anyone want coffee?" Stiles interrupted. He didn't want to think about last night, and having his hands busy would help with that.

Laura's eyes slid from Derek to Stiles.

"Maybe we should talk somewhere else," she suggested.

"Whatever you want to say to me, you can say in front of Stiles," Derek told her.

Stiles did not smile at that as he handed everyone cups of coffee. Nope.

Laura rolled her eyes, and turned to Stiles. "Did you leave any blood at Allison's when you broke in last night?"

"What?" Stiles gaped. "I didn't break in."

Laura raised an eyebrow at him.

He _didn't_.

"I didn't!" Stiles yelled. "I had a key."

Derek ran a hand over his face, trying to hide his smile. Isaac snickered, and Boyd looked amused.

"That's good to know," Laura nodded, and then turned to Derek. "Is he done playing Nancy Drew?"

"Hey!" Stiles protested, offended.

"He is," Derek told.

Laura nodded again. "Any news from Jackson and Lydia?"

"We got a hold of them. He knows what's happening and they're coming back home. He said someone broke into their house."

Stiles froze. "Someone was at their house?"

Derek made a sound of agreement at the back of his throat, bringing Stiles close to him again with an arm around his neck.

"Do they have the herbs?" Stiles whispered.

Derek looked back at Laura and then at Stiles again, and shrugged. "Jackson wouldn't tell us where he stashed them. We have to wait for him to get home so he can look."

Stiles narrowed his eyes at Derek, feeling like he wasn't being told something.

"I hope you're being careful," Laura told Derek, and now Stiles _knew_ they were keeping something for him.

"I'm working this for a client," Derek said.

Laura nodded at him again, then kissed Derek and Stiles on the cheek, waved at Isaac and Boyd, and walked out.

Isaac and Boyd went to the living room, leaving Stiles alone with Derek in the kitchen. Derek slid his arm so it was around Stiles' waist and turned him so they were pressed chest to chest.

When Derek didn't say anything, just stared at Stiles like a creeper, Stiles asked, "Do you think Allison is okay?"

Derek nodded, "She's been texting Scott, but she's being pretty smart about it. We couldn't trace anything back to her yet, and my guy is, as you'd say, a _computer god_."

There was a trace of laughter behind those last words, and any other day Stiles would love to hear more about this computer god, but today he focused on important things.

"She's been texting Scott?" he asked, incredulous. "She's been texting Scott and Scott didn't say anything to me about it?"

"She asked Scott not to," Derek told him. "The only reason I know anything about this is because I stole Scott's phone and went through his text messages when I noticed he wasn't freaking out about her disappearance."

Stiles bit down on his bottom lip. Derek's hand went to Stiles chin, and he pressed their mouths together.

"Be careful at the store," Derek said when he released him. "I don't want you getting kidnapped or shot at again."

"You too," Stiles mumbled against Derek's lips. "Don't want you getting shot at. Your face's too pretty."

When they were little, Derek used to laugh all the time, but as he grew up, that changed. But after Stiles said that, for the first time in a really long time, he watched at Derek threw his head back and laughed.

* * *

Stiles was in his apartment, making mac and cheese, when Allison walked in with a crossbow in her hand.

A crossbow aimed at him.

"Where are the herbs, Stiles?" Allison asked him calmly.

Stiles lost it.

"Are you serious right now?" Stiles yelled at her. "You get me shot at and kidnapped by your crazy as fuck aunt and caught up in all this mess and you come here with a fucking crossbow aimed at my face and you want to know where the herbs are?"

Allison was staring at him with eyes a little wide, but her hand didn't move an inch.

"I'll tell you where the herbs are!" Stiles shouted. "I have no fucking _idea_ where the fuck Jackson stashed them. Because Jackson, being the dick he is, didn't tell anyone."

"Jackson's gone," Allison told him. "His house is tossed."

"Jackson wasn't here before all of this even _happened_," Stiles flailed his arms at her. "He knows now, and he's coming back with Lydia, and I'm sure he'll tell us were those fucking herbs are. You know what? I'm calling Derek."

"No, you're not," Allison said, moving closer to him, crossbow still aimed at him.

Stiles looked at her, stunned, and then started screaming again. "Are you kidding me, Allison? You're going to shoot me with a fucking arrow? When all I did was try to help you this whole time? Are you fucking kidding me? What is Scott going to think, huh? When he finds out you shot his best friend?"

Right then, the door to Stiles' apartment opened.

"Hey, Stiles, I need to talk-"

Allison moved her hand and shot.

"Scott!" Stiles screamed.

Scott dropped to the ground, and Stiles could see the arrow head stuck to his wall. When he looked back to where Allison had been, she was gone. Stiles ran over to Scott.

"You okay buddy?" he helped Scott to his feet.

Scott looked a little dazed. "Was that Allison?"

"Yeah," Stiles took a deep breath. "It was."

"And she shot at me?" Scott asked.

"She did, buddy. I'm sorry."

Scott shook his head. "That was kinda hot."

Stiles gaped at him, then threw his head back and laughed. It was that kind of hysterical laughter that once you started you only stopped because you were too busy choking on sobs. Fortunately, Scott slapped him in the face before that could happen.

"Thanks," Stiles choked out.

"You're welcome, man," Scott told him. "You were kind of freaking me out."

Stiles shook his head at Scott, then pulled his cell out of his pocket and dialed Derek.

"Yeah?"

"Allison was just here," Stiles said on the phone, his voice a little hoarse. "She had a crossbow."

"You okay?" Derek asked, sounding worried.

"Yeah," Stiles said. "She didn't shoot at me. She shot at Scott, though. But he's okay too."

"I'll be there in ten."

"Thanks," Stiles told him, then hung up.

Stiles and Scott were sitting on his couch watching tv, beers in hand, when Derek and Isaac arrived. Derek took one look at the arrow on the wall and grabbed Stiles by the arm, dragging out of the room.

"There's more beer in the fridge," Stiles yelled over his shoulder at Scott and Isaac.

As soon as they were in his bedroom, Derek closed the door and backed Stiles against it, running his hands over Stiles' body.

"Not that I don't like this," Stiles told him. "But what are you doing?"

"Need to make sure you're not hurt," Derek said, his hands at Stiles' sides.

"I'm okay," Stiles said softly.

"I want to kill her."

"Scott wouldn't take that very well," Stiles smiled a little.

Derek snorted. "Allison almost shot him with an arrow."

"I know," Stiles nodded. "Scott thought it was hot."

Derek dropped his forehead against Stiles shoulder and groaned.

Stiles laughed.

Derek took Stiles back to the condo with him, leaving Scott and Isaac at Stiles' apartment in case Allison showed up again. Stiles made Derek order Chinese, and after they ate Stiles promptly passed out on Derek's couch.

The next day Stiles woke up to the feeling of Derek's mouth against his ear. "Jackson and Lydia are back."

"Are they safe?" Stiles asked, pushing Derek off of him and sitting up on the bed.

"Yes."

"Do we have the herbs?"

"They were gone."

"Fuck," Stiles flopped down against the bed again. "Who has them?"

"Don't know," Derek said, watching as Stiles got up from the bed and started pacing.

"We need to find them, Derek."

"I will," Derek nodded.

Stiles stopped mid pace. "What time is it?"

"Almost two," Derek told him.

"Holy God!" Stiles screamed.

He had been doing a lot of screaming these days, and not for the reasons he'd like to.

"I have to take a shower, and get dressed, and head over to dad's. I'm supposed to be making the hamburgers."

"Your father or my dad can make the hamburgers," Derek said, reaching a hand and pulling him back to bed by the wrist. "We're gonna be late."

"We can't be late the first time we go together to a family barbeque, Derek," Stiles said, trying to squirm free.

Derek faced changed. Softened.

"Are we together?"

Stiles blinked at him, thinking fast. "We not _not_ together. I mean, we're not exactly together, but we're also not _not_ together. We're test-driving together to see if this is something worth buying."

"I thought you said you were always worth it," Derek pointed out, lips curved upwards.

Stiles snapped his mouth shut.

He did say that.

"I don't wanna be late," Stiles said.

"Then kiss me and go take a shower."

Stiles could do that.

He leaned forward, pressing his lip's to Derek's, soft and slow at first. He brought his hand to the back of Derek's neck, adjusting the angle, and nipped at Derek's lower lip before tracing his tongue over it and inside his mouth. Derek let him dominate the kiss, and Stiles found himself smiling against Derek's lips before pulling his head back.

"You're good at that," Derek told him, his pupils a little blown.

"See what you were missing?" Stiles teased, his tongue poking him behind his teeth.

Derek groaned and let him go. "Go take a shower, or we're missing the barbeque."

Stiles laughed all the way to the bathroom.

The happiness didn't last.

Stiles and Derek got into a fight as soon as they got there.

Right in the middle of his dad's kitchen.

All because Stiles didn't want to close down the bookstore for the rest of the week, while Derek wanted him at the condo and safe until the herbs were found.

Derek stormed out of the house, got into his car, and drove off.

Stiles was left standing in place until his dad came to talk to him.

"He can't do this," Stiles said, shaking his head.

"He worries about you," the Sheriff sighed. "But you're right. He can't expect you to stop everything just because he wants you to."

"Do you think he'll come back?" Stiles asked, not really knowing why or if he even wanted Derek to come back.

"He'd be a fool if he didn't," John smiled at him. "And Derek McHale is many things, kiddo, but a fool isn't one."

His dad kissed him in the forehead like he used to do when Stiles was little and went back into the backyard. Stiles was contemplating calling Derek when the doorbell rang.

Stiles opened the door to find one of the shooters staring right back at him, momentarily stunned that they had the guts to come to his childhood home and ring the doorbell.

Just as he moved to close the door on the guy's face, the guy reached forward, grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, and knocked him out.

The kidnapping was a lot different this time from the last one.

There was no one asking if he was okay, and they went as far as handcuffing him and tying him to a chair. The guy who grabbed him was one of the shooters who shot at him and Allison and started this whole mess, and he was in another room talking on the phone with somebody, the other one appearing as soon as Stiles was tied up to keep watch on him.

Stiles didn't know where he was or how long it had been since he went missing. He was busy staring out the window and trying not to panic when he saw Isaac. Or more precisely, Isaac' head peeking from the window.

Stiles kept staring. He didn't take his eyes off the window as the other shooter went into the room. He knew that if he averted his gaze or turned his head to the side, it would bring attention to him, and then to where he was looking at.

So he kept staring straight ahead.

Straight ahead at Isaac, who was now nodding at him.

Stiles waited.

The front door flew open and both shooters turned toward it. No one was there, but something rolled across the floor.

It was a smoke bomb.

Stiles could kiss Isaac all over as the room he was in suddenly filled with smoke. He was left gasping and blinking hard, and then his chair was being tipped backwards and he was being dragged out of the room. Isaac pulled him out of the back door and righted the chair, untying Stiles, and shouted, "Run!"

Stiles didn't want to leave him behind, but he figured that if Isaac worked for Derek, than he knew how to take care of himself. And that if Isaac was here, it probably meant Derek wasn't far behind. So Stiles ran, hands still cuffed behind his back.

He got a couple of yards away when he heard gunfire. Stiles ran faster, and seriously hoped Isaac was okay. When he got near a road, he heard the squeal of tires, shouting, and more gunfire.

"Derek!" he heard Laura shout. At least he thought it sounded like Laura. "He's here!"

Stiles was crouched on the ground at this point, hoping not to get shot, and he looked up to see Derek's blurry form looming over him. Next thing he knew he was being hauled up.

"Hold your arms back, wrists wide and keep them steady," Derek ordered.

Stiles did, feeling a hand on his forearm and then a gunshot, his arms falling free to his sides.

Stiles' hands went straight to rub at him eyes, tears running down his face.

"Don't rub," Derek told him, grabbing hold of his wrists and running his hands up and down at the irritated skin. "You're gonna need to wash off your face later. You okay?"

Stiles nodded and said, "Isaac."

Derek's blurry form looked at Laura, "You got him?"

Stiles could barely see Laura nod before Derek took off.

Stiles saw the flashing lights of a squad car, and two of his dad's deputies jogging up at where he and Laura were standing.

"Stiles," one of them said, taking in his teary eyes and bruised face. "We need to get you out of here."

Stiles shook his head, jaw tight. "Not without Derek."

Just then Derek strolled back towards them, one hand holding a gun at his side, the other pushing one of the shooters forward. Derek shoved him down into the pavement next to Laura, looking pissed.

"Is this one of them?" Derek asked Stiles.

Stiles nodded.

One of the deputies asked, "He shot at you?"

Stiles nodded again. He noticed the deputies' eyes harden, and he knew why. The worst thing than shooting a cop was shooting their family, and when the Sheriff got a hold of this things weren't going to be good.

Stiles went to the station and got questioned on what happened since he was taken from his dad's house. Stiles told the detectives as much as he could about the whole situation. He found out Isaac was okay, but one of the shooters managed to get away. He also had to deal with his dad's screaming and Melissa's silent anger and Scott glued to his side.

He was angry he got kidnapped again.

From his _dad's_ house.

His dad, the fucking _Sheriff_.

Stiles had been afraid for his life, and that made him really fucking mad. It made Stiles mad that Melissa looked like she was ready to kill someone. It made Stiles mad that Peter kept glancing at him every five seconds with a somber look on his face. And it made him really fucking pissed that his dad was looking at him with his worried expression.

The last time his dad looked at anyone like that it had been when his mother got diagnosed with cancer.

This shit was _not okay_.

His dad had heart problems, dammit. He shouldn't be worrying about whether or not his son was going to be taken away from him.

Scott took Melissa home while Laura drove Peter, Derek, Stiles and John. No one said anything. They were all tense, worried, and all Stiles wanted to do was fall onto bed and never get up. Laura stopped in front of Derek's condo, and just as they were about to get out of the car, John grabbed hold of Derek's arm.

"Take care of him," John said, and Stiles gulped. No one should make his dad sound like that, like he was afraid something would happen.

"Yes, sir," Derek nodded, getting out of the car.

Stiles hugged his dad and got out.

Derek led him to the condo, not saying anything as they walked in and Stiles went straight to Derek's bedroom. He took off his shirt, shoes, and pants, stopping to stare over his shoulder at Derek, who was leaning against the door frame.

Stiles turned and walked to him, stopping a few feet shy of where he was standing. "Are you still mad at me?"

Derek walked right up to him and put his hands on Stiles' hips and as Stiles hooked his arms over Derek's shoulders he shook his head no.

"Then why so grumpy?" Stiles asked, tracing the frown between Derek's eyebrows with a finger.

"It's my fault," and it was so much like Derek to blame himself for everything Stiles shouldn't be as surprised as he was. "I left, and I left you unprotected."

"Oh my God, Derek," Stiles said, shaking his head. "It's not your fault. No one could have guessed these guys would have the guts to do what they did."

When Derek didn't look convinced, Stiles leaned closer and kissed him fast on the lips. "I don't blame you," he said with a small smile. "If anything, I blame Allison's crazy aunt for putting us in this mess in the first place."

Derek sighed and bumped their noses together. He didn't say anything, but Stiles could feel the tension easing from his shoulders.

"I'm gonna go take a shower now," Stiles told him. "And hope everything stops looking blurry."

Derek's hands tightened on his hips. "I take it I'm not invited."

Stiles shook his head.

"Too tired and traumatized for sexy times," Stiles blinked. "Wow, I never thought I'd say that."

"I'm sorry," Derek mumbled.

"I know," Stiles said, kissing him on the cheek and pulling away. "As long as you're available for cuddles later, we're good."

Derek's lips twitched upwards, so Stiles took that as a yes.

As he was in the shower, Stiles started to think. Showers had always helped him sort things in his head, and more often than not he had an epiphany of some kind while rising off soap from his body. And that was what was happening now. He had time to think about how this all started, about how Derek got involved in it, some things that were said in the last few days about it, and he started getting angry.

All thoughts of cuddles and sexy times with Derek were now replaced by hot red _anger_.

When he got out of the shower, put on clean boxers, and walked back into the bedroom, it was to find Derek lying on the bed with a book.

He was reading.

Like nothing had happened.

And Stiles wanted to punch him.

"We need to talk," Stiles said, firmly.

Derek looked up from the book, face blank. "Okay."

Stiles crossed his arms over his chest.

"You told Laura you were working this for a client," Stiles said, and by the way he saw Derek's jaw clench, he knew he struck something. "I thought you meant me, but I was wrong."

He didn't phrase it as a question so he received no answer, but the way Derek was watching him was almost an answer on itself.

Stiles went on. "When this all started, you weren't here and you weren't due back for a couple of days. Then all of a sudden I'm being dragged by the ankle out of your bed and you tie Allison up with duct tape. You knew about the herbs. You knew about everything even before we got shot at."

Derek kept watching his, mouth clamped shut.

"You're working this for someone else. Not just me."

"I knew you'd get it eventually," Derek said, and Stiles thought he almost sound proud.

"I practically delivered Allison to you," Stiles said. "And you tried to trick me into having sex with you as some sort of payment for it, when you were already in it for a client."

And this hurt.

Because now Stiles felt _used_.

Like he didn't matter.

And this was not okay.

This was so far from okay Stiles didn't even know how to deal with it.

And Derek only made it worse.

"I didn't know Allison was the one who had it," Derek told him.

"Bullshit," Stiles hissed. "You knew because I fucking _told _you about it the night this is all started. I told you about it and you decided to extort sex from me _anyway_."

"I can explain-"

"Nope," Stiles waved a hand at him. "I don't want any explanations. I have no idea what goes on in that head of yours that somehow makes all this shit okay, Derek. Because _it's not okay_. So I'm going to sleep on the couch because I'm dead tired, and then in the morning I'm going to grab my stuff and get the fuck out. We're done."

With that, Stiles walked out of the room and threw himself face first into the couch. He was almost asleep when he was hauled up and caught in a fireman's hold.

"What the fuck?" Stiles yelled. "Stop manhandling me you fucking jerk. What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"I'm taking you to bed," Derek said and slapped him in the ass.

Stiles shouldn't be finding that hot. He really shouldn't. So he hit Derek in the kidney, hard, making Derek drop him on the ground.

Stiles landed on his ass, breathing hard. He scooted over so he was leaning against the wall, and dropped his head on his hands.

His hands were shaking.

"You can't keep doing this," Stiles said, voice hoarse. "I'm not some kind of toy for you to play around with."

Derek came to sit across from him on the floor, legs spread wide.

"I can't discuss my clients with you. There's a confidentiality clause."

Stiles shook his head, because that wasn't the point.

The emotional roller coaster Derek put him on was.

"You've been avoiding me for half a decade and then you practically hit me in the face with an opportunity to make my move, so I did," Derek said. "I don't regret it, and I'd do it again, even if it meant letting Allison walk away free from all of this and never getting those damn herbs back."

And Stiles had to look back at him, because he knew Derek was being honest. He was still annoyed, but Derek was _talking_, and Derek was talking about _them_ instead of just bossing Stiles around or jumping him whenever he felt like it.

"You're what matters to me," Derek said, so low Stiles almost didn't catch it.

Stiles' stomach flipped.

That still didn't mean Stiles wasn't mad at him.

"I'm still mad at you," Stiles told him as he got off the floor and got into bed.

He felt the bed move as Derek got in, and then he was being hauled again, but this time so that he had his back pressed against Derek's chest, Derek's arm around his waist.

"I haven't felt scared in a long time," Derek mumbled against the skin of Stiles neck.

Stiles tensed, but he didn't say anything. It was rare for Derek to talk about his past, so he kept his mouth shut and listened.

"Fear makes you lose control, it makes you unfocused. It gives the enemy an advantage on you. I realized I might not be able to control what people did, but I was able to control my reaction to all of it. So I didn't feel afraid anymore."

Stiles felt the raise of Derek's chest as he took a deep breath.

"Tonight when Scott called me saying you were gone, I felt scared. I lost control."

Stiles was speechless.

Because holy fucking _shit_.

Derek McHale, scared.

Scared of _losing him_.

This was… this was big.

This was so big Stiles' body relaxed against Derek's, and Stiles turned so that they were face to face.

Derek looked… Derek look _haunted_.

And Stiles never wanted to see that look on his face again.

So Stiles kissed the tip of his nose, his eyelids, the corner of his mouth, saying _I'm here _and _I'm okay_ and _You don't have to be scared_.

Derek woke him up at five in the morning.

"Whaaa?" Stiles mumbled against the pillow, eyes closed.

"I'm heading out," Derek said, running a hand through Stiles' hair and kissing the side of his head.

Stiles grabbed him by the wrist. "Where?"

"Hunting."

Stiles opened his eyes at that.

"Be careful," he said, placing a kiss on the inside of Derek's wrist.

Derek nodded, and left.

Stiles got up again a couple of hours later. The store was closed for the weekend, and since he didn't have to get ready to go anywhere he decided to spend the day in pjs - or more precisely in a pair of Derek's sweatpants and a shirt.

Stiles lay sprawled on top of the couch holding a bowl of popcorn, the energy drinks placed on the coffee table, and made use of Derek's Netflix account to catch up on Criminal Minds. Maybe he'd learn something useful.

Scott called in the middle of the third episode Stiles was watching, just to check in and see if he was where he was supposed to be.

"Were you kidnapped?" Scott asked.

"No, Scott," Stiles rolled his eyes. "And if I was, I don't think they'd let me answer my phone."

"Just checking, man," Scott said. "You at Derek's?"

"Yep," Stiles said. "Did you know he has Toy Story on his 'Continue Watching' list? That's proof that he's not a heartless human being. Derek McHale likes animation movies. This gives me hope for our future together."

"So are you finally admitting you two are an item now?" and Stiles could almost see the smug smile on Scott's face.

"I'm not admitting to anything," Stiles scoffed. "And I'm hanging up on you now."

It had been the second time Stiles said he and Derek were together. He guessed they kind of were, since the whole sleeping in the same bed and making out and Stiles helping himself to Derek's clothes was happening. Derek had said more than once that they were an _us_ and not just Stiles and then Derek, but _StilesandDerek_.

And then there was what Derek had said to him last.

If Stiles was being honest with himself, he was scared. He was scared of giving this a change and screwing up, and he was scared that it might work and that all of his dreams would come true.

So he did what he did best.

He stopped thinking about it and went back to watching tv.

Stiles woke up with his face pressed against the couch cushions to find Derek sitting on the ground and staring at him.

"Creeper," Stiles murmured, rubbing a hand over his face.

"Scott said you told him we were together," Derek said, voice soft but firm.

"Scott needs to learn how to keep his mouth shut," Stiles sighed. He was not near enough awake to have this conversation. "I'm not awake enough to have this conversation. How was hunting?"

Derek stared at him for a few seconds before letting his lips curve upwards. It was almost a smile. 'Almost' being the key word.

"It wasn't very good," Derek said, face shutting down.

"That," Stiles gulped. "That doesn't sound okay."

"I'm used to better results," Derek explained. "Allison keeps texting Scott, but we can't find her. And I don't think she's gone underground, otherwise one of my contacts would have heard something."

"Or she's just really smarter than all of you," Stiles shrugged.

Derek glared at him.

"I'm just saying," Stiles brought a hand up to brush the hair back from Derek's face. "She was obviously raised in all of this. She must have learned how to make herself invisible from a very young age. You know, considering how creepy her aunt is I can't say I'm surprised."

Derek grunted and leaned into Stiles' touch. "We're going out for pizza tonight."

"Who's 'we'?"

"Me, you, and Scott," Derek said. "The original invitation was for you only because, in Scott's words, he needs some 'bro time', but I told him there's no way I'm letting you out of my sight."

Stiles snickered. "You're going to tell Laura to come along, aren't you?"

Derek only nodded.

"And Laura will probably bring my dad, too."

Derek nodded again. "Mom and dad are out on a date night, so they'll be doing something else."

"You mean they'll be too busy having sex to join the rest of the family," Stiles raised an eyebrow at him.

Derek scrunching his face up in disgust was probably the most adorable thing Stiles had ever seen.

"I have to change," Stiles said, making no move to get up.

Derek tugged at the sleeve of Stiles' shirt. Or, well, his own shirt.

"You look good in my clothes," Derek said.

"I look good in everything," Stiles batted Derek's hand away.

Derek rolled his eyes at him before getting up from the floor.

"Go take a shower and get dressed," Derek said, offering him a hand up. "I'll clean up here."

"Why, thank you, honey," Stiles smiled at him, turning around.

"You're welcome, baby," Derek deadpanned, swatting him in the ass.

Their table had Stiles sandwiched between Derek and Scott, Laura by Scott's other side and his dad by Derek's. They were all talking animatedly about all sorts of things that weren't Stiles getting shot at or kidnapped because Scott's girlfriend's family was crazy. It was a nice change of pace.

Stiles was stuffing his face with pepperoni pizza when he glanced at Derek. Derek was staring straight ahead, and Stiles followed his gaze to a couple a few tables ahead having dinner with their two kids.

Stiles bumped their shoulders together. "Do you want kids?"

He didn't really know why he was asking, but if they were going to do the whole together thing, this was important information.

Derek slid his eyes to him. "Yes."

This was good, Stiles loved kids. "How many?"

Derek tilted his head to the side, looking at Stiles cautiously. "Three."

Stiles nodded. He could see that. Being an only child, he'd always wanted brothers or sisters. With Derek it made sense he'd want three kids, considering it had always been him, Laura, and Scott.

"What about you?" Derek asked.

Stiles licked his lips. "I could go for three."

It was kind of amazing to watch Derek's face go from total lack of expression to a full-blown smile.

And it was absolutely terrifying to watch as his face closes down and his eyes go cold.

Derek was looking at a spot behind Stiles shoulder, and then Stiles was on the ground, Derek's body covering him, and Stiles could hear shooting, _again_.

He was being shot at, _again_.

Thank fuck his dad and Laura never went anywhere without a gun these days.

Stiles stared at Scott's wide eyes as Derek pushed both of them out of the door. Stiles saw his dad in front of them, and Derek shoved him into Scott's car, while Scott got into the driver's seat.

"Stay here, stay down and out of sight, and lock the fucking doors," Derek said before he ran back through the door.

Fucking _great_.

Stiles couldn't even go out to eat pizza anymore without someone trying to kill him.

Was nothing sacred anymore?

And didn't these people get he didn't _know_ where Allison or the herbs were?

Scott had a hand on Stiles' shoulder, keeping him down. Stiles watched as people ran from the pizza place, until a familiar face passed him. He shot up in his seat, and pointed a finger to the guy.

"That guy shot me!" Stiles said, loudly. "At me! And Allison! And started this whole shit!"

Stiles saw as he ran to a car and yanked the driver out of it. Getting in and driving off. Next thing Stiles knew, Scott was following him.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Stiles screamed at his best friend, reaching sideways to buckle Scott's seat belt before buckling his.

"He can't get away!" Scott shouted back as he jerked the car out of the parking lot.

Stiles couldn't believe his life. He couldn't believe he was in a car with Scott chasing a guy who shot at him a few days before. And he couldn't believe Scott was still driving when the first police squad showed up.

And the second.

And the third.

"Scott," Stiles shouted. "Pull the fuck over! Let the police have him."

"No! This guy shot at Allison! And at you!"

Stiles swallowed back his groan, because seriously, Scott?

So not the time.

Stiles' cell phone vibrated in his pocket, "Derek" flashing across the screen. He answered the phone, just as Scott bumped into the shooter.

Stiles was too scared to say anything.

"Stiles," Derek's voice come from his ear.

"Yes?" Stiles asked, sounding a whole lot calmer than he actually was.

"Where. The fuck. Are. You?" Derek snarled over the phone.

Stiles looked back over his shoulder. They had three police cars trailing them, sirens blaring and lights rolling and Stiles knew his head was going to be fucking pissed at him for being in the middle of this. It looked like there were other cars following them, and one looked suspiciously like Derek's black Camaro.

"We saw one of the guys who shot at me and Allison and Scott decided to follow him."

"Pull over," and Derek sounded strangely calm.

This was not good.

If Derek was calm it meant shit was about to get real.

And Stiles was going to be in the middle of it.

"Scott won't listen to me," Stiles told him, slightly panicked now.

"Stiles, tell Scott to pull. The fuck. Over," Derek said.

"Scott," Stiles tried. "Derek said to pull over."

Scott shook his head. "I'm not pulling over. He's not getting away."

That's when a car shot past them, jerking in front of shooter's car and slamming on the breaks. Scott tried to break, but lost control of the car. They pitched right, then left, then into – and thank fuck for this because oh my _god_ – an unused lot, knocked down a chain link fence, and slammed right into a concrete slab.

Getting hit in the face by an airbag hurt.

And Stiles was getting really fucking tired of things hitting him in the face.

He did a mental inventory of all his body parts, checking to see if anything was missing or bleeding or out of place. When he realized he was okay, he turned to Scott.

"You okay, buddy?"

Scott grumbled something, and then Stiles' door was being wrenched opened and someone had a hand on his chest so he didn't fall forward when the airbag was punctured. Not that Stiles was going anywhere. His seat belt would make sure of it, and he's glad he took the time to stop freaking out when Scott pulled out of the parking lot to buckle the two of them in. Derek was crouched in the door beside him.

"You okay?" Derek asked, though he wasn't really looking for answer. His hands were already running up and down Stiles' body, looking for injuries.

Stiles turned to Scott again and saw that Laura was on his side of the car, also making sure her little brother was in one piece.

"I think," Stiles swallowed. "I think I'm okay."

"We need to get them out of the car," Laura told Derek.

Derek reached over him and undid his buckle. He helped Stiles out of the car and walked him away from it and toward the street, and Stiles took his time to get his shit together, slipping his cell back into his pocket.

Scott was standing a few feet away, looking fine, and Stiles decided he was going to kill him.

Right here.

In front of everyone and the police.

"Are you fucking nuts?" Stiles screamed as he got closer to Scott, intent on killing him or at least cause some damage. "You could have killed us!"

Stiles made it two steps before Derek was on him, holding him in place. Stiles trashed forward, trying to get away.

"I cannot believe you just did that," Stiles yelled. "You're fucking crazy! What the fuck were you thinking?"

"He was going to get away!" Scott shouted back.

"No, he wasn't," Stiles snapped. "Did you not see the three police cars trailing us? Did you not see Derek? They all could have gotten him if you'd have just fucking _listened _to me once in your life and _pulled the fuck over_!"

"I wasn't going to let him get away!" Scott yelled.

"Who the fuck cares?"

"I care!"

"It wasn't very smart," Laura said, and when Stiles turned to her he could see she was barely controlling herself from beating the shit out of Scott.

Scott glared at Stiles, before turning to his sister.

"He shot at Allison! And at Stiles, twice! He kidnapped him. My best friend! Now if either of you," and Scott pointed at Laura and Derek, "were sitting in a car and had the opportunity, you'd take it without a second thought."

Okay, Scott had a point there.

"And you," and now he was turning to Stiles. "If someone did those things to me, or your dad, or Derek, or any of us, you wouldn't even hesitate."

Stiles pressed his lips together.

Scott was right. He wouldn't have thought twice about it.

"Scott…" Stiles tried, swallowing around the lump in his throat.

"I know I'm not a cop, or a…" Scott trailed off, scrunching his face up at Derek, "whatever it is that you are, I don't even know, but Stiles is my best friend, and I'm not going to let anyone get away with hurting him."

Stiles tried not to think too hard about how the last part of Scott's speech was directed at Derek.

"I think you made your point," Derek said, still holding Stiles down.

A car angled into the lot and John, Peter, and Melissa got out.

Peter looked around him, making sure everyone was alive and breathing, and then roared at Scott, "Did you just got into a high speed chase?"

"We've covered this," Laura told her dad.

Derek let Stiles go when John came around, and Stiles caught his dad into a tight hug.

"You okay?"

Stiles nodded, not ready to let go just yet.

"I don't know what's going on," John said, and Stiles knew his dad was talking to Derek, "But you should consider putting Stiles in a safe house."

Derek didn't say anything to this. He just waited for Stiles to let go of his dad before putting him in the Camaro and driving away.

"I don't want to go to a safe house," Stiles said. "I'd go crazy, you know that."

"You _are_ in a safe house. The condo is safe," Derek explained. "You just keep _leaving it_."

Stiles didn't really like the way Derek said the last phrase.

"If you cuff me to the bed again, I'll walk out," Stiles said, serious. "I'll walk out of your life and you'll never see me again."

Derek shook his head.

"You're a security challenge," he said, and Stiles snorted. "I need to find a way to keep you safe without risking my chances to have sex with you."

Stiles gaped at him.

"Is that what all this is about with you?" Stiles asked. "Having sex with me?"

"You know it's not," Derek said through gritted teeth.

"No, I don't fucking know, Derek," Stiles sighed, frustrated. "All I hear from you is either you telling me what to do, you yelling at me for doing something wrong, or you making some comment about getting in my pants. I need to know. This has to. I. It needs to be more than that, okay? It needs to be _more_."

Derek parked the Camaro in the garage, but made no move to get out.

"You've been in love with me since you were five," Derek said, Stiles' eyes widening because _he knew?_ "What you don't know is that I've liked you back since you were four and that time you shared your candy with me when I was home sick with the flu. Scott and Laura wouldn't even get close to me, but you'd come along and bring your comic books and talk me to death."

Stiles had stopped breathing.

"Mom liked to say I only got better because you were there every day, and every day before Aria came to pick you up you'd pat me on the cheek and say 'Don' be sick, Der. I need you to hit Laura when she's being a meanie.'" Derek snorted.

Stiles still wasn't breathing.

He was pretty sure he'd never breathe properly ever again.

Not after this.

"Even after I got _you_ sick for spending so much time with me, you still made your mom or your dad drive you to our house. Just so we could be sick together," Derek said, the ghost of a smile on his lips. "So yeah, Stiles. This is _more_."

Stiles blinked at him;

Then blinked some more.

Then tried not to freak out because apparently all his dreams had come true and Derek McHale was in love with him too.

And then he smiled.

A big, happy, I-couldn't-believe-this-was-my-life smile.

"You know what we're going to do?" Stiles asked. "We're going to go up to your stupid condo, get naked, you're going to get your mouth all over me, and there will be orgasms, and sexy times, and we won't be done until tomorrow morning when I need to go to work, alright?"

Derek was staring at him hungrily, eyes dark, and judging by how fast he was out of the car and opening Stiles' door for him, he was more than okay with this plan.

As soon as they got into the condo, Derek had his hands under the waistband of Stiles' jeans, squeezing his ass and pulling him closer. Stiles liked this, liked feeling how hard Derek was for him against his stomach, liked being able to kiss Derek freely and help him out of his clothes and just stare at the man in front of him.

Because Derek was _his_ and he was _allowed_.

When they got to the bedroom Derek didn't waste any time as he pushed Stiles down on the bed and climbed on top of him. They were only in their boxers, and Stiles knew that was only because Derek had some stupid idea about how Stiles was a _gift_ he got to _unwrap_. Derek was sucking at his pulse point while Stiles ran his hands up and down Derek's back, Stiles' hips arching forward as Derek moved to bite down on his shoulder.

Stiles brought Derek's head up so he could kiss him, nipping at his bottom lip and sucking Derek's tongue into his mouth. Derek's hands were all over him, and Derek pulled back so his mouth could be all over Stiles too. He kissed down Stiles' jaw, neck, chest, stopping to bite and suck at his nipples, then down his stomach.

Stiles was looking straight at Derek this whole time, and the sight of Derek mouthing over his hard-on over his boxers was almost enough to make him come. Just as Derek hooked his fingers around the waistband of Stiles' boxers to tug it down, the doorbell rang.

Three times.

Derek immediately stopped everything he was doing, while Stiles brought his hands to his face and cursed.

Loudly.

He hated Derek's job.

Whatever it was.

Derek got up from the bed and walked out the room. Stiles lay there in bed, hard, trying to think of something disgusting so he could get his body back under control. He didn't think this amount of sexual frustration was good for a person. His balls were going to explode.

Derek got back to the room, looking grim.

"Boyd was shot," Derek said.

Stiles jumped from the bed. "What?"

And there went his hard-on.

"Isaac and Erica are coming up," Derek moved to grab some clothes and threw them at Stiles. "I'm going to take a shower. Let them in, okay?"

Stiles nodded, already slipping into a pair of jeans. He ran to the living room, gathering his and Derek's discarded clothes and throwing them on top of the bed, and then coming back to open the door when he heard a knock.

Isaac and a terrifyingly beautiful blond woman were standing there, looking like they wanted to rip something or someone apart. Stiles stepped aside, letting them into the apartment.

"Are you two okay?" he asked, running his eyes up and down both of them to see if there weren't any apparent injuries.

"Yeah," Isaac said, before tilting his head into the woman's direction. "This is Erica."

Stiles offered her a hand. "Nice to meet you," he said, and she shook it. "I'd introduce myself, but I get a feeling you know me already."

"I do," Erica said, smiling a little bit and taking in Stiles' shirtless state. "I knew Derek had good taste."

Stiles' eyes widened, and he rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand. Erica scared him a little. He knew she worked for Derek, so that meant she could probably kill him in five different ways while he was standing right there and make it look like an accident.

At least he thought so.

He honestly had no idea what they all did.

Only that it involved getting shot at.

So he said, "Derek has the best taste."

Isaac huffed, and Erica smiled a little bit more. Stiles knew this must be hard for them, having a friend getting hurt, so he set out for making them feel a little bit better.

He made coffee.

He figured they would need it, considering it was pretty late at night already. So he filled some travel mugs, and just as he was screwing them shut, Derek stepped out of the bedroom, dressed and with his hair damp. Stiles handed two of the travel mugs to Erica and Isaac, giving Derek his when he stopped by to kiss him lightly on the lips.

"Keep me updated," Stiles said as they walked out.

"I will," Derek said, closing the door behind them.

Derek kept texting him throughout the night. Nothing more than _still in surgery_ or _we're fine_ or _no news_, but it still helped with Stiles' anxiety over it all. Around 3AM he got a text from Derek that said _go to bed_, and being as exhausted as he was, Stiles did exactly that.

He still woke up early though, which was a good thing because it was Monday and he had to go to work and deal with all the people who'd be angry Allison still wasn't back.

Sometimes he couldn't believe how seriously people took their caffeine intake.

It was kind of worrying.

Derek had left the Camaro for him last night, and Stiles made a mental note to be _extremely_ grateful to Derek once they got into sexy times. That was if they stopped being cockblocked by Derek's fucking doorbell.

Stiles was sure the Camaro was absolute heaven to drive, but his mind was running too fast for him to fully appreciate the experience. He didn't like Derek stuck in a hospital waiting room waiting to see if his friend was going to be okay.

He got to the store a full half-hour before they opened, and it was to find Scott staring dumbly at the front door. Stiles sighed, thinking Scott had forgotten his keys again, but as soon as he parked the car and stepped outside to follow Scott's line of vision, he stopped dead in his tracks.

Propped against the front door of the bookstore was the shooter they were chasing last night. What was left of his head hanging limply against the wood. And there goes Stiles' day.

"Scott, come here," Stiles said, grabbing Scott by the shirt and pulling his friend behind him.

Scott was staring, mouth opened, at the body, and he made no move to do or say anything to Stiles.

"Did you call Laura?" Stiles asked, because surely Scott was smart enough to call his sister, the cop.

Scott shook his head, eyes still wide. "That's a dead body."

"No, it's a body of water," Stiles snapped. "Of course it's a dead body, you dumbass."

Stiles took his phone out of his pocket, dialing Laura.

"Yeah?"

"It's Stiles," Stiles said, taking a deep breath. "There's a dead guy leaning against the door at the bookstore."

Silence.

"Are you joking?" Laura asked, voice serious.

"I don't joke about dead bodies in my place of business, Laura," Stiles snapped.

Just then, Jackson rounded the corner with Lydia with one of her arms looped through his. He nodded at Stiles and Scott before glancing to where they were looking, stopping short and throwing an arm around Lydia's shoulder.

"Fucking hell, Stilinski!" Jackson shouted, earning himself an elbow to the stomach from Lydia.

"Don't yell," Lydia hissed through her teeth, bringing her eyes to the body and raising an eyebrow.

It was a little scary how she didn't even look disgusted at the sight.

"Jackson just got there," Laura said.

"Yes," Stiles sighed. "Can you get here?"

"I'll put someone on it," Laura told him. "Do you know who it is?"

"It's one of the guys who shot me and Allison," Stiles said. "And kidnapped me. And Scott chased yesterday."

"You better call Derek," was all Laura said before she hung up.

"It's like I'm not here to tell you how to do things and your whole life turns into a mess, Stiles," Lydia said, shaking her head.

And Stiles wanted to laugh at that, and he wanted to cry at that, and he wanted to scream his lungs out.

In less than fifteen minutes the place was surrounded by cops, plus Laura, John and even Peter, and the bookstore was taped. If it wasn't for the fact that Stiles was freaking out a little, he'd think it was kind of cool to see his bookstore as a crime scene.

Stiles stood off to the side of things and hit Derek's number.

"Everything okay?" Derek answered.

"Well," Stiles bit his lip.

"Stiles," Derek said, sounding angry, and a little worried.

"I'm okay, nothing happened to me," Stiles said quickly. "But I got to the store and the dead body of the shooter Scott chased last night was propped against the front door."

A beat of silence, and then, "A gift."

Stiles blinked.

"What?"

"I'll be there in a few."

"Derek, wha-"

Derek hung up.

The Sheriff came to a stop in front of him, looking serious. "Do you know why this happened?"

Stiles shook his head, "I really don't, dad."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Stiles yelled. "And when you find out, please tell me, because I'm getting sick of this shit!"

His dad stared at him somberly, turning his head to look at Derek sliding from behind the wheel of a black SUV. Derek's eyes were on Stiles, but Peter and Laura stopped him before he could make his way to where Stiles was talking to his dad.

"You know what's going on, don't you?" Stiles asked his dad, suddenly feeling very, very tired.

"You're my son," the Sheriff shrugged. "And cops gossip more than old ladies. Derek's been keeping Laura updated, and Laura has been keeping me updated in return."

"Why haven't you said anything?" Stiles breathed out.

"I trust Derek to sort everything out and to keep you safe. And I trust you to take care of yourself."

Stiles blinked back tears as he hugged his dad. His dad was the best. Stiles would totally let him have as many steaks as he'd like as soon as this was all over.

They walked up to where the McHale trio was standing. They all somewhat had their backs to Stiles, so they didn't stop talking as he got close.

"Laura, I know you leave it to Derek to do the things that would, for the lack of a better term, get your hands dirty and Derek, I know you don't have a problem when it comes to do whatever it needs doing to get things in place, but I don't like what's going on here."

Derek's head turned and he looked at Stiles out of the corner of his eyes. Laura and Peter both turned their heads too, and all conversation stopped.

Stiles fought the urge to roll his eyes at them.

He walked up to Derek, who reached a hand to grab the back of his neck and pull him closer, pressing their foreheads together. Stiles hands went to Derek's shoulders, and he could hear his dad, Peter and Laura walking away.

"You okay?"

"I'm tired," Stiles sighed. "All of this kidnapping and getting shot at and finding dead bodies is getting old."

Derek nodded at him, rubbing their noses together.

"What did you mean earlier," Stiles frowned in confusion. "When you said this was a gift?"

He felt Derek tense under his hands.

Oh.

Stiles wasn't going to like this.

"It was from Kate," Derek told him, and Stiles could hear the barely contained fury in his voice.

"What do you mean?" Stiles asked, voice a little bit higher than he intended.

What kind of fucked up person sent someone's _dead body_ as a gift?

"It means she wants something," Derek explained. "She wants you. This was her way of showing you she can keep you safe."

"What?" Stiles shrieked. His dad, Laura, and Peter turned back to stare at them.

"This is an attempt to win you over," Derek said. "To show you she's interested."

"But I'm gay!" Stiles said, louder than he intended. He could see the amused looks from his dad, Laura and Peter out of the corner of his eye.

"I don't think it matters to her," Derek shook his head.

Stiles made a disgusted noise in the back of his throat. "That's… I feel kind of violated right now."

"I won't let anything happen to you," Derek reassured him.

"How is Boyd?" Stiles asked, deciding to change the subject and circling his arms around Derek's waist and squeezing a little.

"No word," Derek told him. "I'll have to go back to the hospital."

"Was he…" Stiles took a deep breath. "Was he doing something for… was he doing something for me? When he…?"

Derek shook his head. "He was looking into something else. It had nothing to do with you."

Stiles' body slumped in relief. He didn't want to be the cause of anyone's gunshot wounds, and standing there, staring into Derek's eyes, he realized that Derek sort of _was_ the reason Boyd got shot.

"You need to go," Stiles said.

"Yeah."

Stiles started to pull away but was stopped by Derek's mouth on his, soft and sweet.

"I want to come home to you," Derek said once he pulled away.

All the air rushed out of Stiles lungs.

"What?"

"Tonight. When I get home, I want you to be there. I have things to do, but everything you need to get into the condo and stay safe is in the Camaro," Derek told him. "I want to come home to you."

Stiles blinked at him, stunned, but managed a nod of his head.

Derek stared at him for a while, before pecking him lightly on the lips. "I'm sorry about this morning."

Stiles snorted. "You should be," Stiles said. "My balls hurt."

"I can help you with that," Derek murmured against his lips. "Tonight."

"Promises, promises," Stiles said as Derek pulled away from him and got into his car.

Stiles spent another day with Netflix.

That was until he got bored and decided to clean Derek's condo, or at least tried to. Derek kept everything meticulously clean. All Stiles had to do was wash the dishes he used for breakfast, and go put away his clothes in Derek's bedroom. The only thing that actually required some work was doing laundry, but even that wasn't enough to keep him occupied for long.

So Stiles thought about _pie_.

He went to check to see if Derek had all the ingredients needed for a fudgy chocolate cream pie, which he _didn't_, so he called Scott and asked him to buy some things and bring it over to the apartment for him.

Stiles decided to take the whole "Don't get out of the condo because the condo is safe" thing seriously.

The pie escalated into Stiles cooking dinner, and he kicked Scott out of the condo as soon as he started making grabby hands at the food. He settled for something that could be reheated in case Derek got home late from the hospital or whatever shit he had to do.

If they were really doing this, Stiles should probably know a little bit more about Derek's work than just its name: McHale Investigations.

Even if the name was kind of self-explanatory.

When he finished with the food, took a shower and changed clothes, Stiles went to sit on the couch and wait for Derek to get home. He felt a little bit like a housewife, waiting for his husband to come back home from a day's work and have dinner already served on the table.

Stiles wasn't really sure how he felt about that.

He picked a book from one of the shelves in Derek's living room and started reading, the landline and Stiles cell placed on top of the coffee table in case anyone called.

Stiles, being Stiles, got comfortable on the couch, and fell asleep.

He woke up to someone's hand sliding up his shirt.

Derek was sitting on the couch, Stiles' feet on his lap.

"Hi," Stiles mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Hey."

Stiles got up on an elbow. "What time is it?"

"Almost midnight," Derek told him. "I'm sorry dinner got ruined."

"It didn't," Stiles shook his head. "I made stuff that we could eat for lunch tomorrow. Don't worry."

"That's good," Derek smiled softly at him.

Stiles sat down on the couch, stretching, and as he did this Derek's hands came to his hips and manhandled him until he was sitting firmly on Derek's lap. He leaned back into the cushions, and Stiles leaned down into him, bringing his arms to curl around Derek's shoulder. Derek's hands still placed on his hips.

"Are you tired?" Derek asked, giving him a squeeze of his hands.

Stiles didn't answer, just tipped his head down and kissed Derek quickly on the lips.

"How's Boyd?" he asked, because he wanted to get the important things out of the way first.

"Alive," Derek told him. "Critical, but I know he's going to be okay. Otherwise Erica will kill him."

"Boyd and Erica?" Stiles asked, eyebrows climbing up to his hairline.

Derek nodded.

"Erica is scary," Stiles whispered.

"Boyd can be scarier," Derek snorted.

Oh.

Stiles did not want to see that.

"Do you wanna go to bed?" Stiles asked, wiggling his hips in Derek's lap a little.

Just so Derek knew he didn't meant going to bed for sleep.

"Yeah," Derek said, tilting his head up so he could kiss Stiles.

And what a fucking great kiss it was, open-mouthed and wet, their tongues sliding together, Derek biting down on Stiles' lower lip and sucking it a little in his mouth. One of Stiles' hand at the back of Derek's neck, pulling him closer, while the other rested against his heart over his chest, and both of Derek's hands cupping his ass, bringing their bodies closer together.

Derek's mouth moved across Stiles' cheek, slid down his neck, and over his collarbone. Stiles moved his head back, exposing his throat, and moaned when Derek moved up again and bit down on the soft skin of his neck. One of Derek's hands slid under his shirt, running up and down his ribs.

Stiles pulled back a little, taking his shirt off and then Derek's, running his hand down Derek's chest, nails scratching lightly at his abs. He could feel the muscles twitching under his hand, and moved down straight to the button and fly of Derek's jeans.

He wanted Derek naked, and he wanted him _now_.

But as soon as he got the button undone, Derek grabbed his wrists.

"In a hurry?" Derek asked.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Stiles tried to move his arms so he could slap Derek, but he was being held in a pretty tight grip. "I've been trying to have sex with you for _days_. And every time we get interrupted. So yes, I'm in a hurry."

Derek stared at him for a beat or two, and then pushed Stiles off his lap. Stiles almost fell on his ass, but Derek still had a hold on one of his wrists, and soon he was being dragged to Derek's bedroom.

Fucking _finally_.

Stiles thought he could weep from joy right at this moment.

Derek pushed him down on the bed before moving to tug his and Stiles' pants and boxers off. And Stiles wished he could take a moment to just appreciate the sight of Derek naked in front of him. Stiles had seen him shirtless more times than he could count, but to be able to touch and kiss and lick and bite his way over Derek's body was all he had ever wanted.

So when Derek climbed on top of him on the bed, Stiles flipped him over and did just that.

Derek let out a surprised 'woof' at the sudden movement, but the sound turned into a groan as Stiles straddled his hips. Stiles leaned down to kiss Derek, moaning into his mouth when their erections brushed together. He kissed down Derek's jaw, stopping at his neck so he could get his turn in all the biting, marking Derek's skin with his teeth. While he was busy lapping at the bite mark he left on Derek's neck, Derek's flipped them over so Stiles was under him.

"You said you wanted my mouth all over you," Derek said against his ear before sucking his earlobe into his mouth.

"Holy God," Stiles said, a little breathless and a lot turned on. "Yes, fuck, yes."

Derek turned his attention to Stiles' mouth again, fingers coming up his chest so he could roll Stiles' nipples between his fingers. Stiles bit down on Derek's lip as his hips arched forward at the sensation, then moaned when Derek's tongue replaced his fingers.

The worst thing about only having a chance to have sex with Derek now was that Stiles wasn't going to last.

It was kind of impossible for him to do so when he'd been dreaming about it for so long, and then with all the times they had been interrupted at the beginning of it.

So he wasn't going to last, but as Derek sucked the head of his dick into his mouth, he couldn't say he cared that much.

Derek's mouth was… Derek's mouth was better than anything he'd ever imagined, warm and wet and wrapped around him as Derek bobbed his head up and down and hollowed his cheeks. Watching Derek giving him head was enough to make his brain short-circuit.

He couldn't think.

He could just _feel feel feel._

"I'm not…" Stiles trailed off, moaning shamelessly as Derek cupped his balls with one hand. "I'm not gonna. Not gonna last."

Derek took his mouth off him, Stiles whining in protest.

"I don't want you to," Derek said, voice hoarse.

Voice hoarse from sucking Stiles' _cock_.

"I'm really _not_ gonna last, Der."

Derek's only response was to roll his eyes and get his mouth on Stiles again, this time sucking him harder, and faster, and wetter, and Stiles is arching off the bed, coming down Derek's throat, and Derek is swallowing it all down.

Stiles brought Derek up with a hand tugging at his hair, and kissed him as soon as his mouth was in reach, tasting himself on Derek's tongue. He leaned back and brought his hand up, palm to Derek's face, and let Derek lick at his fingers and coat his hand with spit.

Stiles never thought that watching people suck his fingers into their mouths would be a thing.

Maybe it was because this was _Derek_, and anything involving Derek was better and hotter than normal.

He pulled his hand back and reached down to wrap his fingers around Derek, and the sound Derek made against his mouth made Stiles smile a little, smug. Stiles stopped feeling bad about almost coming on the spot when only after a few tugs Derek was spilling over his hand and down his stomach, flopping down over Stiles. Stiles brought one hand to the nape of Derek's neck, playing with the soft hair there, while his other was in front of his face while he licked Derek's come off his fingers.

He heard Derek grunt from where his face was smashed against Stiles' neck.

"You're gonna have to move soon if you expect me to breathe okay," Stiles told him, fingers still running through Derek's hair.

He loved Derek's hair.

Derek's answer was to slid off Stiles and onto the bed, bringing an arm around Stiles waist and pulling him close.

Stiles sighed contentedly.

"Sorry we didn't get to the fucking part," he said, because he had been looking forward to that.

"'s okay," Derek mumbled. "We have time."

Stiles beamed at the ceiling and went to sleep.

* * *

Derek was taking Stiles with him to work.

Because when they got to the bookstore that morning, Scott had been screaming at some guy who was apparently sent there to take Allison's job as their barista. Stiles had no idea where he'd come from, and Derek had already called Laura to come and arrest him, when a car pulled in front of the store.

Stiles felt the bile rise in his throat as Kate walked out, and he was so very thankful to have Derek with him right now, his arm around Stiles' waist.

"Stiles, you look good," Kate said, her eyes sliding down Stiles' body.

_Gross._

Stiles leaned more against Derek's body, one hand grabbing at the back of his jacket.

"Kate," Derek said, voice cold.

"Hello, handsome," Kate said, then turned back to Stiles. "I knew you were missing a barista, so I thought I could help."

Stiles didn't want her help. He wanted her as far away from him and his body as possible.

"Stiles doesn't want him," Derek told her. "You can send him home."

Kate expression did that changing thing again, going from insane to psychotic killer in under five seconds. Stiles gulped.

"He's a present for Stiles," she said.

Stiles absolutely did not want anything to do with this woman or the implications her so called 'presents' would bring him.

"Thank you, that's very nice of you," Stiles said, sounding way more calm than he actually was. Kate scared the shit out of him. "But I don't need him."

"_I_ can take care of you, Stiles," Kate said, and even though she was smiling she still had that serial killer look on her face.

"_Derek_ takes care of me," Stiles knew that made him sound like he was Derek's boy toy, but, well, when faced with insane people he really didn't care that much.

Kate's smile didn't waver as she called the new barista to her and told him to make himself scarce. She looked back at Derek, still smiling, before turning to Stiles and winking at him. Then she gave them her back, got into the car, and drove away.

"Oh my _god_, can someone make her go away?" Stiles slumped against Derek's side, pressing his face into Derek's shoulder.

"I wish I could," Derek told him. "Bullet to the head, dump her body in the woods somewhere so no one could find her."

Stiles lifted his head so he could look at Derek.

"You're totally serious right now, aren't you?"

Derek just raised an eyebrow at him.

"Good to know my boyfriend is willing to kill people for me," Stiles nodded.

Derek turned his body so they were pressed chest to chest. "Am I?"

"Are you what?" Stiles asked, confused.

Derek leaned closer. "Your boyfriend?"

Stiles was blushing.

He couldn't believe that of all the times he could blush in his life, it was happening now. But he kind of liked it that Derek could make him react like that by just asking a simple question.

"My boyfriend," Stiles smiled before leaning all the way and kissing Derek on the lips.

They pull apart once they hear someone coughing, and Stiles turns his head to find Greenberg staring at the ground in front of him and Scott looking at both of them with his face scrunched up.

"I love you guys," Scott said. "And I love that you finally pulled your heads out of your asses and got together, but don't _be_ together in front of me. It's weird. It's my _best friend_ and my _brother_."

Stiles merely rolled his eyes while Derek gave Scott one of his best glares.

So now Derek was turning into an underground parking lot. There were a bank of spots with signs that said McHale Investigations, and Derek eased into one of them.

Stiles was excited.

He was finally going to see what a day in the life of Derek McHale was like.

They got off the elevator on the second floor and Derek opened a door and gestured for Stiles to walk through it. Stiles bit down on his lower lip to keep from smiling and jumping up and down in place as he took in the room in front of him.

It had a reception desk, leather couches, thick carpet and dark wood, and Stiles wasn't surprised the whole thing kind of screamed badass-in-business. He actually kind of wanted to give thumbs up to the person who decorated the office, because it looked really good.

Isaac was standing behind the reception desk, and as soon as he spotted Derek he said, "Boyd's out of critical. Erica is there with him right now, but she said she'd stop by later."

Stiles breathed a sigh of relief, and he could see as some of the tension bled out from Derek's shoulders.

"You stopping by when Erica comes back?" Derek asked Isaac, who nodded. "Good. In the meantime can you get Stiles a stun gun?"

"Yeah," Isaac said, walking out and disappearing behind one of the doors behind the reception desk.

"What do I need a stun gun for?" Stiles asked.

He didn't like guns.

Any type of guns.

Growing up with a cop for a dad made sure he wasn't afraid of them and knew how to use them, but he still wasn't comfortable with having one. Even if it was just a stun gun, of all things.

"To stun anyone who tries to hurt you," Derek told him, bringing an arm around Stiles' waist.

"I only need my charm and wits to _stun_ people, Der," Stiles mocked.

They walked down the hall and into Derek's office, which looked a lot like the front room, only with a bigger desk. Stiles blinked at everything once Derek closed the door behind them, before turning to his boyfriend.

"This is scary neat and organized," Stiles told him.

Derek shrugged.

"I don't think we can be together anymore," Stiles said.

Derek turned to look at him.

"I mean, I know how your apartment looks. Hell, I tried to clean your apartment because I was bored and that only left me even _more_ bored because there wasn't anything to clean," Stiles waved a hand in front of him. "And I don't think you'll appreciate me living with you when you come home one night to find a wet towel on the bed or my dirty clothes on the floor and a crumbles on your couch."

Derek gave him a small smile, bringing a hand to cup Stiles' jaw. "You gonna live with me?"

Stiles opened his mouth only to snap it shut again.

Oops.

"Well…" he trailed off. "You said… You said you wanted to come home to me."

"I did," Derek nodded, tracing a thumb up and down Stiles' cheek.

"So, I guess, I thought…" Stiles trailed off again, not really knowing how to continue.

Derek didn't say anything either, just angled his head a little so he could bring their mouths together. Derek licked at the seam of Stiles' lips, over his teeth, and into his mouth. It was a slow kiss, the type of kiss that showed Stiles they had all the time in the world to keep doing this, that they didn't have to hurry.

When Derek broke the kiss, Stiles was left feeling a little dazed, like something really good had just happened to him but his brain hadn't caught up yet.

"You thought right," Derek said against his lips. "And you can leave as many wet towels on the bed and dirty clothes on the floor as you want. It took me a really long time to get you right where I wanted you, Stiles. I'm not letting go of you now."

"So I'm really moving in?" Stiles said. He had to ask, to get all the words out, just so they were on the same page. "Don't you think it's a little fast?"

Derek shook his head. "It took us twenty years, Stiles. That's not fast."

"Fuck," Stiles breathed out. "I really wanna blow you right now."

Derek raised his eyebrows, eyes crinkling at the corners, and made his way to sit on the leather couch he had in his office. He spread out his legs, popped his jeans opened, and looked back at Stiles with a little amused smirk.

"Be my guest," Derek said, making himself comfortable.

Stiles gaped at him, before narrowing his eyes and moving so he was standing in front of Derek. He leaned down to kiss him, then promptly dropped on his knees between Derek's spread legs. He pulled Derek's jeans and boxers down, Derek arching his hips so he could do so, tugged Derek's dress shirt up a little and bent down so he could lick and nip at Derek's abs. Derek had a hand resting at the back of his neck, and Stiles could hear his little gasps and choked up sounds as Stiles moved lower and lower until he had his face leveled with Derek's dick.

Stiles licked a stripe from the base up, sucking the head into his mouth and moaning around him when Derek rocked his hips up. He loved the taste and weight of Derek on his tongue, the little breathless sounds Derek made whenever Stiles brought his hand to cup his balls, and he specially loved each and every time Derek thrust his hips up.

"Your fucking _mouth_," Derek gasped, one hand coming to Stiles' cheek so he could feel himself as he fucked Stiles' mouth.

All Stiles could do was moan and suck harder, letting Derek set the pace until he was spilling down Stiles' throat and slumping back on the couch. Stiles released him and wiped his mouth with the back on his hand, tucking Derek back in his pants before straddling him and rubbing their noses together. Derek hummed contentedly, bringing his hands to Stiles' ass and squeezing.

"I think we should have office sex more often," Stiles said, kissing the corner of Derek's mouth.

"You didn't come yet," Derek said, moving a hand so he could cup Stiles through his jeans and, "Oh."

Stiles wiggled a bit, hiding his face against Derek's neck. "Yeah," Stiles said, the come already cooling in his pants making him feel a little uncomfortable. "You fucking my mouth was kind of… so yeah."

"Fuck," Derek said against Stiles' ear. "You're gonna be the death of me, aren't you?"

Stiles pulled back to stare at Derek and frown. "I really hope not."

Derek shook his head and kissed Stiles on the lips, before slapping him on the ass and pushing him off his lap and onto the couch.

"I'm going to find you some clean pants," Derek told him at Stiles' incredulous look. "There's a bathroom right there where you can get cleaned up."

Stiles got up and walked to the direction where Derek pointed him to, and stepped into the bathroom. He was standing around in just his shirt, pants on the ground, and eyeing his stained boxer briefs when Derek appeared at the door.

"You're gonna have to go commando," Derek said, amusement evident in his voice.

"Yeah," Stiles rolled his eyes at him before throwing his boxers on top of his jeans and extending a hand to Derek. "And whose fault is that?"

"Yours," Derek said, giving him a clean pair of jeans. "No one told you to come in your pants like a teenager."

Stiles widened his eyes at that, clutching his imaginary pearls. "_Rude_."

Derek just shook his head at him again, leaving Stiles to get dressed.

As soon as he was decent again Derek took him on a tour of the place, walking down a hall in the opposite direction of the reception. He opened the door right next to his office, showing Stiles a view of a large room with some gym equipment, a tv, and a big, comfy couch.

"This is where we usually stay when we're on call but nothing's happening, or we just want to unwind after something," Derek told him, closing the door and moving on.

He turned across the hall and opened another door, this was leading to a bathroom.

"When you're here, you use my private bathroom," Derek told him. "Not this one."

Stiles raised his eyebrows a little but nodded. They walked further down the hall and Derek opened another door, this one to a small room lined with lockers and a kitchenette at the end. Stiles nodded and Derek closed the door, turning to another one across the hall. He tapped on the door twice, slid a card across a pad on the side and a click and a green light later he opened the door.

Stiles was seriously impressed.

The room had about a thousand tvs with dvds plugged in it, around five different computers, three phones, radios, innumerous walkie-talkies, and Stiles thought he could hear the police-band quietly on the background. The guy sitting in a chair with his side to the door turned his head to nod at Derek and then to smile at Stiles, his dimples showing.

"That's Danny," Derek said. "Danny, you know Stiles."

"Hey," Danny greeted, still smiling.

Stiles blinked at him, a little bit blinded by all the dimples and adorableness, then said, "You're the computer god."

He could feel Derek's shoulders shaking in silent laughter against his, and he was about to turn and slap him in the head when Danny shrugged.

"That's me," he said, then pointed at Stiles. "And you're Derek's."

Stiles sputtered, then narrowed his eyes at Danny. "I'm my own. Derek's just my boyfriend."

Danny stared at him for a beat before smiling up at him again. "I like you."

At that, Derek hook an arm across Stiles' shoulder, placing his hand on Stiles' chest. Stiles and Danny both rolled their eyes.

"Relax, Miguel," Danny said. "He's not my type."

Stiles stared from Danny back to Derek.

"Miguel?" Stiles asked, pressing his lips together and trying to hold his smile.

Derek gave Danny his best glare, but Danny only raised an eyebrow in response and turned to Stiles.

"There were tight orange and blue striped shirts and angry stripping involved," Danny said, making Derek growl a little. "I can't really say anything else or Derek will kill me."

"Angry stripping?" Stiles asked.

Derek turned his glare to him.

Stiles burst out laughing.

Danny turned his attention back to the monitors, and Stiles followed his gaze. He could see one of the monitors showed the bookstore, and there were also images of the front of Derek's condo, his empty parking spot in the garage, and the reception desk.

"We used to do security," Derek said.

"But that was boring," Danny filled in.

Stiles snorted a laugh and shook his head at both of them.

"The bookstore is going to be wired for a while," Derek told him. "And we'll need to get a camera on the front door."

The last part was obviously meant for Danny, and as Stiles looked at Derek staring at the monitors, he knew Derek wasn't missing anything that was going on in front of him. Seeing Derek like that was a lot hotter than Stiles thought it would be.

They left Danny to work, and Derek continued the tour. After going through a few more rooms Derek guided him back to the reception area to find Isaac back behind the desk. Stiles' future stun gun was on top of the table, and as they got near it Derek reached a hand to take it, handing it to Stiles.

"You know how to use this, right?"

Stiles nodded. His dad made sure to teach him how to use all kinds of police equipment while growing up, if not to defend himself but to make sure he wouldn't get hurt.

"Then the fun part of the day is over," Derek told him, a serious look on his face.

"We're going to find Allison?" Stiles asked.

"Yes," Derek said. "You're gonna see and hear shit that you might not like. This is my job, and I know how it can be sometimes, so I'm gonna need you to listen to me. A lot of things we do are being controlled, or there's a reason why we do them, so before you react you need to talk to me. And if you think this is too much for you to handle, let me know, and I'll get you out. Okay?"

Stiles took a deep breath as Derek watched him closely, waiting for his response.

He knew Derek's work could be dangerous, and everything he just said made Stiles even more worried, but he had been shot at and kidnapped a lot in the last few days, so he thought he could handle it. At least he'd be there by Derek's side if anything happened.

"Okay," Stiles nodded, voice firm.

"We're going to the holding room," Derek said, and that sounded dangerous. "Keep quiet, eyes open, and know where your weapon is. We have someone in there, and we're letting him go."

"Letting him go?" Stiles frowned.

"He's part of a bigger picture." Derek explained. "We've been trying to get him to talk for a few days, but now it serves us best if we let him loose."

"Okay," Stiles said. "Just let me channel my inner Hotchner with the expressionless face and aversion to blinking and we're good."

Derek just stared at him. "What."

"Criminal Minds?" Stiles pursed his lips. "No?"

Derek sighed, turned on his back, and started walking, leaving Stiles no choice but to follow. They stopped by a door at the end of the hall, Isaac having joined them, and Derek turned to Stiles.

"Know where your stun gun is?"

Stiles' hand flew to the gun on his belt, Derek nodding in approval. He then opened the door and walked in, Stiles behind him, Isaac following and closing the door.

The room had a bed, a toilet, and a sink, and as the sound of the door opening, the body on the bed got up and turned around. It was Kate's errand by, the one who slammed Stiles' face on the steering wheel and then punched him. Stiles could see he had a broken nose and his right eye was swollen shut, and the guy stared at him for a beat before turning to Derek, gaze cautious.

"You're free to go," Derek said, tone cold. "Isaac will escort you from the building."

Stiles' mind was reeling. He tried to remember how long it had been since Derek told his guys to pick him up from Kate's, and he wondered if he had been here for that long. Stiles thought so, and he had no illusions as to how his face got like that. He wasn't sure if he liked what he was seeing here.

"Free to go?" the guy asked.

"Yes," Derek said.

"Just like that?"

No one said anything, and the guy looked at Stiles. Stiles did his best to stare back at him with his face blank, unblinking. Derek had told him not to say anything, so he wasn't going to. And he thought that even if he could speak, he'd be too shocked to do it.

"I don't get it," the guy said.

"Rumor has it you talked," Derek said, leaning against a wall. "I don't know how that happened."

Derek looked at Isaac, who shrugged.

Stiles mentally raised an eyebrow at the two of them. They were playing with him, and Stiles wondered how the guy didn't find this obvious. Maybe Stiles was better at reading Derek than he'd thought.

"Kate's at war, trying to impress Stiles. She put a bullet through the head of one of the guys who messed with him, saying she could protect him. You hit him, marked him." Derek said, face blank, but Stiles could see a muscle ticking in his jaw that meant he was really fucking pissed right now. "Now you're free to go."

"Fuck," the guy cursed. "I talk, she kills me. I don't talk, she kills me."

"Tough shit," Derek said, turned on his back, jerked his head to Stiles and walked both of them walked out of the room. Isaac stayed while Stiles and Derek made their way to Derek's office and Derek locked the door, pushing Stiles against it and bringing a hand to his neck, fingers over Stiles' pulse point.

"Was I okay in there?" Stiles asked, voice low.

Derek was still staring intensely at him.

"Yeah," he said, a small smile playing at his lips. "You did okay."

Stiles smiled at himself, pleased. He knew all those hours he put into watching tv shows would come in handy someday.

"Do you want to tell me how the guy's face got like that?" Stiles' smile slipping from his lips. He already knew the answer, he just wanted to see if Derek was going to tell him about it.

Which he did.

"It was me," Derek said, like it was nothing.

"Why?"

"He touched you."

Stiles blinked at him, because _seriously?_

"Seriously?" Stiles asked, incredulous. "Did you seriously beat the shit out of a guy because he _touched me_?"

"You said it hurt. So I hurt him."

"Oh my god, you're _insane_," Stiles shook his head, hands coming up to grab Derek's face, squishing his cheeks together. His face actually looked kind of funny with his lips pursed forward and the frown between his eyebrows, but Stiles wasn't going to mention that. "You can't just go around doing that to people. What if I'm walking down the street and someone walks into me and I fall on my ass and hurt myself? Does this mean you're going to beat the shit out of the person who slammed into me too?"

Derek just blinked at him, the hand that wasn't around Stiles' neck coming up and tugging at Stiles' wrist.

"He kidnapped you," Derek said, narrowing his eyes. "He didn't bump into you on the street."

"Oh," Stiles said. "I guess I can see your point."

Derek shook his head and sighed, but Stiles could see the crinkles around his eyes, meaning he was amused.

"I still don't like it," Stiles told him.

"I don't like having to hit people who hurt you, either," Derek said, resting their foreheads together. "And once this shit is done I won't have to. But it's a dangerous business, and you're in my life now. I have to make it clear for people that if they fuck with you, there will be consequences."

Stiles let his hand fall from Derek's face to his shoulder, the other lacing their fingers together.

"Okay," Stiles nodded. "I get it."

"Can you deal with it?" Derek asked.

Stiles took a moment to think about it. He didn't like the fact that depending on the case Derek was working on, he had the potential to get seriously injured. He didn't like what he saw in the holding room, and how they played with someone's life like that, even if that someone wasn't a good person. But then he thought about his family, and how they were all in danger because of the mess they were in, and how Derek had the means to make things safer, even if he wasn't exactly in the right side of the law.

So yeah, he didn't like it, but he could deal with it.

His family was more important than his morals, at the moment.

"I can deal with it," Stiles said, voice firm.

Derek stared at him for a few seconds, kissed the tip of Stiles' nose, then pulled back to go sit on the couch.

"What do you want for lunch?"

Stiles flopped down by Derek's side, thinking about it.

"Can we order Thai?"

Derek's response was to grab his phone from his pocket, dial a number, and place their orders.

"How do you know my order?" Stiles asked after Derek hung up.

"I was at the hospital the day you were born," Derek raised an eyebrow at him, like that explained everything.

Which it kind of did.

And holy _shit_.

"Oh my god, you love me," Stiles said, eyes wide. "You totally love me. You've loved me since I was a kid and you know what my orders are and how to keep me from kicking you when we're in bed asleep and you know how I take my coffee in the mornings and oh my god _you love me_."

The eye crinkles of amusement were there, and all Derek did was turn his body a little so he could rub their noses together.

"Took you long enough to figure that one out."

Stiles didn't know what to do or say or how to react.

Derek _loved him._

Derek McHale was _in love with him_.

Just like Stiles had been in love with him back for the past twenty years.

Stiles could feel the wetness in his eyes, and he was torn between crying and laughing and maybe jumping up and down and screaming for the world to hear that _Derek loved him_.

Stiles moved so he was straddling Derek's legs, pressing kisses against his forehead, nose, eyelids, cheeks, chin, down his neck, against his ears, before coming back and sealing their mouths together. Stiles could feel Derek smiling against his lips, and he couldn't help but smile in return, pulling back a little so he could stare into Derek's eyes.

"Yay," Stiles whispered, biting down on his lower lip and trying not to smile too widely.

"Yay?" Derek chuckled. "Really, Stiles?"

"Shut up," Stiles said, pecking him on the lips. "You love me."

Derek only hummed in agreement, nipping at Stiles' chin before Stiles slid off from his lap and back to the couch.

"Now all we need is to find the herbs and get shit done so life can be awesome again," Stiles sighed, resting his head against Derek's shoulder.

"I have the herbs," Derek mumbled against his hairline.

"You _what_?" Stiles yelled, sitting up so fast he almost headbutted Derek.

Derek just stared at him, looking kind of apologetic. Stiles was going to kill him.

"You better explain yourself to me right now before I start plotting your murder."

"You'd never get away with it," Derek said, arching an eyebrow.

"Oh, but I would," Stiles narrowed his eyes. "I so would. My dad would help me once I let him know why I killed you in the first place."

Derek blinked at him for a few seconds.

"Shit."

"Yeah," Stiles agreed. "So you better start talking."

"I found the herbs at Jackson's the morning after Allison disappeared. My contacts warned Jackson about it when they found him."

"Contacts?"

Derek nodded. "I reached out to some other PIs and bounty hunters near places I thought Jackson might go."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Stiles asked, mouth pressed in a thin line.

"You didn't need to know."

"I didn't need to _know_?" Stiles said loudly, waving his arms around. "Are you kidding me?"

Derek did the staring thing for a while before he said, "I can't tell you everything, but I can try to explain some things."

"Well, thank you," Stiles snapped. "I'd appreciate that."

"You have to understand that crime is organized," Derek explained. "They have levels of management, training, and territories, the latter being where they run their business and what makes it possible for them to deal with their own shit as they see fit without anyone getting on their asses about it."

Stiles nodded his understanding.

"They only cross over that line when they have the power to take over the territory," Derek continued. "Kate is not like that. She does what she wants, whenever she wants, and wherever she wants. She's messy, and greedy, and fucking batshit crazy. She's been causing problems for everyone for a long time, calling attention to the wrong people, and now the criminals want her out just as much as the cops."

"Why don't they just, you know, take her out?" Stiles asked, kind of confused.

"Family ties," Derek said. "Her father and brother are French, and very powerful. If something happened to her, there'd be retribution. Or at least that was the word when Kate had done something and they'd send someone to clean up her mess."

"Kinda like the mob," Stiles gulped, not liking this at all.

The look Derek gave him meant it was _exactly_ like the mob.

"But Kate left a lot of messes to be cleaned, and rumor has it her family is done. Or at least her brother is, and he's the one handling things since they found out their father had cancer. Now people need to make it look like Kate was taken out _without_ actually being taken out, so that way her brother won't find the need to do anything about it."

"When you say Kate's brother, you mean…" Stiles trailed off.

"Allison's father," Derek nodded.

"Holy shit," Stiles breathed out, running a hand through his hair. "What do you have to do with any of this?"

"I have connections on both sides," Derek explained. "Laura used me as a go-between with someone called Alan Deaton."

Stiles frowned in confusion. "Wasn't he the vet Scott worked for when we were in high school?"

"He was never _just a vet_."

"They are his herbs Kate stole, aren't they?" Stiles asked, shaking his head.

"Yes," Derek nodded. "He knew me through Scott when we were young, and then later when I started doing security. When we moved on to other things, he kept us on call for some jobs. He's a very powerful man, and he doesn't like being stolen from. The night I came home to find you and Allison in the condo, I had gotten a call from him saying some of his herbs were missing."

"Why did he call you?"

Derek shrugged. "I'm good at finding all sorts of things."

Stiles stared at him dumbly. "Yeah, you'd always find us really fast whenever we played hide-and-seek."

Derek's eyes crinkled at him.

"How does Allison…" Stiles trailed off.

"I knew she was an Argent before she started dating Scott, and before they got involved I made sure she knew what would happen to her if anything happened to him. She told me she didn't have anything to do with them, that her mother didn't want her to grow up in the life and her father agreed. They didn't want that for their daughter and for a while that's what they got," Derek smiled sadly at Stiles, and then his face turned cold once again. "Then Kate got a hold of Allison. She played the concerned aunt card and coerced Allison into doing things she didn't want to do, and Allison didn't know how to say no. Kate started bragging about stealing from Deaton, and word got out on who had the herbs. Some people decided to go after it, and that's where you came in."

"I can't believe this," Stiles shook his head.

Derek brought a hand to the back of Stiles neck, pulling him in until Stiles had his face pressed against the skin of Derek's neck. Derek was rubbing circles on his back, his cheek pressed to Stiles' hair.

"Why are you doing this?" Stiles asked, voice small.

"I'm good at what I do and I make good money out of it," Derek said.

"You could make good money being an underwear model," Stiles said, ignoring the way Derek's chest shook a little with laughter. "I bet you'd be good at that and wouldn't risk getting shot at."

"Being an underwear model won't let me retired when I'm forty," Derek explained. "I won't do this forever. I don't _need_ to do this forever. I'll only do it long enough so that we don't ever have to worry about money in our lives."

"We don't worry about money now," Stiles frowned.

"And we'll never have to," Derek said, moving a little so he could look Stiles in the eyes. "This job pays me a shit ton of money. And when I say I shit ton of money I mean _a shit ton of money_."

"Are you rich?" Stiles blinked at him.

"I will be in a couple of years," Derek smiled a little when Stiles gaped.

"You're totally my sugar daddy," Stiles told him, before laughing at the stricken look on Derek's face.

"Shut up," Derek grunted when Stiles couldn't stop laughing.

"Nope, not shutting up," Stiles beamed at him. "This is your life now. You better get used to it, daddy."

Stiles eyes widened at that, and he scrunched his eyes shut and shook his head.

"I never said that," Stiles was still shaking his head in disgust. "Never. We'll forget all about it, and never think or speak of it again."

"Your mind scares me sometimes," Derek said, and when Stiles opened one eye to stare at him, he looked kind of amused and terrified at the same time.

"Me too," Stiles whispered, licking his lips and smiling a little when Derek leaned in to kiss him.

"We have to go meet Laura," Derek told him after they finished their lunches, throwing everything in the trash.

They met her at a coffee place near Derek's office. Laura was sitting in one of the tables they had in front of it, legs crossed, sunglasses on and playing with her cellphone. She looked up and smiled when both of them got closer, offering her cheek for kisses.

"Do you have anything?" Derek asked her once they sat down and ordered.

"The guy Stiles found in front of the store was killed by someone from out of town," Laura said.

Stiles couldn't really help but feeling weird at seeing those words come out of Laura's mouth. He knew she was a cop and saw things like this every day, but it was not like they talked about it.

Until now.

"Argent?"

"Independent contractor. Kate has to hire her guns these days," Laura said, voice going cold at the mention of Kate's name. "There's talk there are two names on her list. One of them was already done."

"And the other?" Derek asked.

"Allison," Laura said.

All the air rushed out of Stiles lungs and he stared at Derek. Derek placed his hand on top of his on the table, lacing their fingers together and squeezing.

"We have to find her," Stiles told them.

"We will," Derek said, and Laura nodded.

"We have to find her," Stiles repeated. "Scott would die if anything happened to her."

"We know," Laura said, then looked back at Derek. "You should know there are bets being placed on who'll win Stiles. You or Kate."

"_What?_" Stiles said loudly, a few people turning their heads to look at their table. Stiles lowered his voice, "What?"

"Who's got the odds?" Derek asked.

Stiles gaped at him.

"Are you serious?" Stiles couldn't believe this. "I'm _gay_. There are no odds."

"People think you'll get him," Laura said, taking a sip of her coffee. "If that's what you want to know."

Stiles shook his head at Derek's smug ghost of a smile, because apparently this was his life now. Derek's phone rang, and he walked away to answer it.

"I'm glad you two are finally together," Laura told him, smiling. "You make him happy."

"He makes me happy too," Stiles said, wanting to gag at how he sounded.

Derek went back to the table, looked between Stiles and Laura and said, "We have Allison."

They drove in Laura's police car, Derek in the passenger seat, Stiles in the back.

"Do you have your stun gun?" Derek turned his head to stare at Stiles from over his shoulder.

"I do."

"Good."

They parked in front of a one-story house, the front steps and a small porch close to the sidewalk, one window looking into the living room. Stiles could see Derek focused on something straight ahead.

"Someone's here," he said to Laura, reaching down under his seat and coming up with a gun, which he handed to Stiles. "You're going to stay in the car, but if you see someone coming at you that's not me or Laura, you shoot."

"Got it," Stiles said, and Laura and Derek got out of the car.

Stiles looked back at the door of the house, and then snapped his gaze to the window.

Scott was in there with Allison.

Fucking _fuck_.

Stiles didn't know what to do. He didn't think Laura and Derek knew Scott was there, and he couldn't exactly call them without giving their location away to whomever it was that Derek said was there already.

Stiles didn't know what to do. He didn't think Laura and Derek knew Scott was there, and he couldn't exactly call them without giving their location away to whomever it was that Derek said was there already.

And that was when Stiles saw a guy walking down the street, looking like he belonged to the place, like he was trying to fit into the background and slip unnoticed. Stiles reached for his stun gun, shoved the gun Derek left with him in the back of his jeans, and stepped out of the car.

Stiles had no idea what he was doing; all he knew was that he had to do _something_ so Scott would be okay. He hurried down the sidewalk and waited for the guy to turn and notice him, waving and smiling when he did. The guy kept walking, clearly dismissing Stiles as a threat, and Stiles walked a little faster, stun gun in hand as he got close enough to press the gun to the guy's neck, watching in silent wonder as he dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Laura appeared out of nowhere, slamming his body against a parked car, taking the stun gun out of his hand and keeping Stiles there by the sheer force of her glare. Stiles gulped as Derek got there a second later, looking from the guy on the ground and back to Stiles' face.

"Scott is inside," Stiles said. "I saw him through the window."

They knew Stiles would do anything for Scott. The three of them looked back at the house as the door opened and Scott stepped outside, staring at them with a confused look on his face.

"What are you doing here?"

Laura rolled her eyes and went to cuff the hit man Stiles stun gunned, while Derek grunted and walked past Scott and into the house. Stiles just rolled his eyes and walked over to Scott, hugging him tight, before going into the house as well. He saw Derek and Allison talking in hushed tones, their faces grim.

Allison's face palled as Stiles walked up to her.

"The only reason I'm not going to kill you is because you'll probably beat the shit out of me first, and because Scott would never forgive me for it," Stiles said, voice low and serious. "But you're gonna have to make me a lot of coffee and give me a lot of Skittles' bag for me to even _begin _thinking about forgiving you for what you put me through."

Allison's chin trembled, her eyes filling with tears. "I'm sorry."

"I know," Stiles said, hugging her. "Still doesn't make it okay. You could have talked to us. We would have helped."

He felt Allison nod against his neck, and he let go of her so he could stand beside Derek wrap an arm around his waist, while Scott threw an arm around Allison's shoulder. Laura walked into the house and narrowed her eyes at her little brother.

"We're going to have words later, Scottie."

Stiles had to hide his smile behind against Derek's shoulder at the miserable look on Scott's face.

Derek turned to look at him.

"I found Allison," he said. "You don't have to pay me anymore."

Stiles blinked at him, before leaning closer and brushing their lips together in a barely there kiss.

"I know," Stiles said. "But I'm going to anyway."

The look on Derek's face told Stiles that if they were alone, Derek would have bent him over a desk by now.

* * *

They had a quiet couple of days after that, much to Stiles' happiness. Days where he spent wrapped around Derek, since they _finally_ got around to fucking.

After they took Allison to a safe house, the hit man to jail, and Derek got off work, he drove them both to the condo, not wasting a second to get Stiles up against the door and kiss him senseless. Stiles sighed into the kiss, hands at Derek's hair while Derek slipped a hand under his shirt.

"Not that I don't like you slamming me into things," Stiles said against Derek's lips. "But bed please?"

Derek nipped at his bottom lip before taking Stiles' hand in his and leading them to the bedroom. He took his time stripping Stiles and then himself before pushing Stiles' down on the bed and climbing on top of him. He reached a hand to open a drawer on one of the nightstands and placed a bottle of tube on top of one of the pillows.

"No condoms?" Stiles asked, kissing a spot just under Derek's ear.

He felt Derek tense on top of him, so Stiles brought a hand to run up and down the span of Derek's back.

"I don't," Derek started, then shook his head. "I don't anything between us. I'm clean, but if you're not comfortable with it, I can use them."

Stiles gave Derek a small smile, tilting his head up to press their lips together, running his tongue over Derek's top lip until Derek opened his mouth to him. Stiles kissed him slowly, until he could feel Derek relax back into him, sighing against his mouth.

"I'm clean too," Stiles said once they broke apart. "So we don't need to use them."

Derek kissed him again, moving down to bite at Stiles' neck, and then make his way down his chest. When Derek got close to his stomach and moved to get Stiles' cock in his mouth, Stiles' tug at Derek's hair, forcing him up.

"Don't want that," Stiles gasped as he rocked his hips up. "Just want you already. Wanna come with you inside me."

Derek's eyes darkened even more at that, his hips pushing forward in an unconscious move. He bent down to kiss Stiles, fucking his tongue into Stiles' mouth as Stiles wrapped his legs around Derek's waist. Derek pulled back to grab the lube, coating his fingers and reaching down as Stiles' let his legs drop down back on the bed, spreading them wider.

Stiles groaned at the first touch of Derek's fingers against his hole, slicking it with lube before pressing one in. Derek went back to his neck, and Stiles would need to have a talk with him about all this marking thing, but right now all he could focus on was Derek adding another finger in, his muscles clenching before he forced his body to relax. Stiles caught Derek's lips in a kiss as Derek scissored him open, groaning and arching up on the bed as Derek crooked his fingers inside of him.

"Fuck, yeah, right there," Stiles bit down on his lower lip as he pushed his ass back against Derek's fingers. "Der, come on."

Derek bit at his earlobe, wrapping a hand around Stiles' dick and pumping him slowly before sliding a third finger in. Stiles gasped, the edges between pleasure and pain blurring together, and Derek moved to kiss him sloppily. It toke a few more minutes and another finger before Derek was okay with pulling his fingers back and slicking himself with lube.

Stiles legs went back to their place wrapped around Derek's waist, and they stared at each other as Derek pressed in. He did it slowly, giving Stiles a chance to adjust and breathe, a thumb rubbing soothing circles against the skin of Stiles' hip.

It was like every minute of Stiles' life had built up to this, to having Derek inside of him, to being able to look at him with flushed cheeks and pupils dark and hair slicked with sweat. Stiles brought a hand to cup Derek's cheek when he bottomed out, and he had to bite down on his lip at the sudden rush of _too much_ and _Derek_ and _holy shit_ and the overwhelming feeling of finally having _this_, of having what he always wanted.

Derek wasn't careful with him, and he was grateful for every hard thrust and sharp bite at his neck and shoulder and tight grip on his hips and thighs. It meant that this was _real_. That after twenty years they've finally got here, they finally got to this, got to being _them_, together.

And Stiles got what he asked for, Derek inside of him when he came, Derek's hand wrapped around him as he spilled between their bodies and clenched around Derek, until Derek was coming inside of him, filling him up. Stiles felt boneless in the best way possible, with Derek's weight pressing him down onto the bed.

They didn't say anything. Not when Derek pulled out and got off of him, not when he went to the bathroom to clean himself up and came back with a wet washcloth to take care of Stiles too, and not when Derek lay back down on the bed, curling his body around Stiles. They were on their sides, face to face, Stiles smiling a little while Derek had the eye crinkles of amusement.

"I like this look on your face," Derek said, voice a little hoarse. "Happy, relaxed… satisfied."

Stiles hummed in agreement.

"Having your cock inside of me after wanting it for so long kind of does that to a man," Stiles said, placing a hand on Derek's chest.

Stiles felt Derek's chest move with silent laughter as Derek brought an arm to hook around his waist and pull him closer.

"I like that," Stiles mumbled.

"What?"

"Feeling your laughter," Stiles explained. "You used to laugh all the time when we were younger, but not so much anymore."

"You were avoiding me," Derek said.

"What does that have to do with you laughing?" Stiles asked, frowning in confusion.

"I only laughed because you were around, Stiles," Derek said, like that was the most obvious thing in the word. "You're crazy, and you have a sense of humor that's uniquely your own. It's one of the things I love about you."

Stiles propped himself on an elbow so he could look at Derek.

"What else do you love about me?"

"Are you seriously asking me this?" Derek raised an eyebrow.

"I'm seriously asking you this, yes," Stiles nodded. "I think I should know."

"I love your eyes, your laugh, your stupid _mouth_," Derek said, sweeping a thumb under Stiles' lower lip.

"That's it?"

"I _really_ love your mouth," Derek smirked at him.

Stiles punched him on the shoulder. "Asshole."

Derek moved so that Stiles was under him, pinning him to the bed.

"We aren't practicing for the real thing, Stiles. We're already _it_. You're funny, and beautiful, and you care about people, and you keep up with me. I like the way you look at me when you think you can get away with it, and I like that when we have kids we're gonna have stories to tell them because we have history, because there was never a time when we weren't part of each other's lives. You drive me fucking _nuts_, and now that I got you, I plan on spending the rest of my life with you. And if that freaks you out, tough shit, because _I love you and I'm not letting you go_."

"Rest of your life with me?" Stiles blinked up at Derek, holding his breath.

"Yes," Derek said without hesitation.

"Are you proposing?" Stiles asked, eyes wide and voice a little higher than normal.

Derek just shook his head, chuckling a little.

"No," he said. "When I do, you'll know it."

"Oh," Stiles said, licking his lips. He had no idea how he felt about this, but the warm feeling in his gut might say that he didn't really mind.

A life time of Derek.

Holy shit.

"_Oh_," he said again.

"If I knew that all I had to do to shut you up was talk about what I want from us and our future, I would've done it sooner," Derek said, nuzzling Stiles' neck.

"You're an asshole," Stiles said, no heat behind it.

Derek laid back down on his side on the bed, pulling Stiles to him.

"And you love me."

"Yeah," Stiles smiled. "I do."

They were sitting on the chairs in Derek's balcony the next morning, Stiles drinking his second cup of coffee with his feet up Derek's lap while Derek read the newspaper. There was a peace to them this morning, like something finally had settled. Stiles couldn't wipe off the little grin off his face thinking about last night, and what Derek said to him, and what it meant. He was pretty sure that if he was more awake now, he'd be doing a victory dance.

"I asked Isaac to call some guys to come in and pack up all the rest of your stuff and move it here or to storage," Derek said, squeezing Stiles' ankle. "You'll need to stop by your apartment and sort everything out and I'll come around tonight and we'll move you in."

Stiles' stomach flipped, and he had to take a deep breath and let it out through his nose before he nodded at Derek.

"This feels fast," Stiles said, pursing his lips together.

"Not fast enough," Derek shook his head.

Stiles closed the bookstore for the day, recruiting Scott to help him pack his things. Some of his clothes were already at Derek's, so while Scott was busy packing up his books, Stiles started going through his closet, getting rid of whatever he hadn't wore in more than two years. The end result was a pile of clothes next to his bed, which Scott promptly fell into once he came to tell Stiles they needed more boxes.

Stiles was going to leave most of his furniture behind. All the stuff that had some value to him and were picked out by his mother were still at his dad's house, so he wasn't too broken up about it. He took special care when packing all of his picture frames and photo albums, years and years of memories stacked up into boxes. He left post-it notes on top of the things meant for storage, and loaded up boxes into his and Scott's car.

It took a lot more trips than Stiles was comfortable with to get all his things into Derek's condo, and he was grateful that all Scott demanded as payment for his hard work was food, so Stiles let him eat everything that was in his fridge back at his apartment. Stiles didn't really want to start unpacking without Derek there. If he was being honest with himself, seeing all those boxes spread around the condo were kind of freaking him out a little bit, so he needed the calm Derek brought with him whenever Stiles got anxious about something.

When Derek got to the condo it was to find Stiles on the couch, clutching a pillow in his lap, and looking around the boxes with wild eyes.

"Hey," Derek said.

Stiles didn't answer. He just kept glancing around, afraid to move, to make this permanent.

"Stiles?"

Stiles got up and walked to the bedroom, opening the door to Derek's closet and pushing Derek's clothes around, than staring back at the suitcases with the rest of the clothes he brought back from his apartment.

He started breathing faster.

Derek moved to his side, one hand rubbing circles against his back, his mouth to Stiles ear.

"Breathe," Derek said, voice calm. "In. Out. In. Out."

Stiles did as he said, trying to get his breathing under control. It took a little while, but he managed.

"Feel better?" Derek asked, kissing his cheek.

"Not really, no," Stiles shook his head.

Derek moved, cupping Stiles' jaw and turning his head so he could mash their lips together. Stiles knew Derek was trying to distract him from his freak out by kissing the life out of him, and he couldn't say he minded that much. It was actually a pretty good plan, considering the way Stiles now had a hand tugging at Derek's hair and the other grabbing his ass and forcing their bodies closer together.

Derek pulled back, smiling softly at him and tracing a thumb under his bottom lip.

"What do you want to unpack first?" Derek asked, voice low.

"My books, I think?" Stiles said, scrunching his nose up. "And my dvds? We should see if there are any doubles and I'll tell you now, I'm not the one getting rid of anything."

Derek shook his head at him before pecking him on the lips.

"I'll get rid of anything if it means keeping you."

"You are such a sap," Stiles rolled his eyes. "Imagine the face of all your enemies when I tell the world all the sappy things you've said to me this past week. They'll _die_."

Derek slapped him in the ass before walking out of the room. "Come on, we have work to do."

"Yes, _honey_," Stiles replied sarcastically.

Stiles found out Derek didn't have that many dvds. It made sense, with him always being out on a job somewhere and not really having the time to stay at the condo and just sit on the couch and watch something. Plus, he had Netflix, so Stiles guessed Derek really didn't see the point.

It was different with books, though. Derek's living room had a big shelf stacked with them, and Stiles went through all the titles carefully to make sure he replaced the right copies.

"You can take all the doubles to the bookstore," Derek said, unpacking more of Stiles' dvds.

"You sure?" Stiles asked, biting his lip.

"Yeah," he nodded. "Your copies are probably better taken care of than mine."

That was true. Stiles noticed Derek had the habit of bending spines and tucking pages in instead of using bookmarks. They'd need to have a talk about that in the future.

By the end of the night Stiles was exhausted, but he was glad they managed to get rid of most of the boxes, leaving only the picture frames to be put up the next day.

"You gonna unpack your clothes?" Derek asked from his place on the couch, beer in hand and staring at the movie Stiles put on the tv.

"Nope," Stiles said, resting more comfortably against Derek's chest and taking a gulp of his own beer. "I already have enough clothes in your drawers, so I don't really need to unpack anything more right now."

Derek hummed and leaned forward to place his empty beer bottled on the coffee table before moving back and slumping more against the couch, one hand sliding under the collar of Stiles' shirt to rest flat against his chest. Stiles placed his bottle on the ground near the couch and brought his hand to cover Derek's over his shirt.

"I like this," Stiles said. "Us. This way. It's good."

"It is," Derek said, kissing his head.

Stiles made a content sound and closed his eyes, giving in to the feeling of warmth and safety and _love_, and falling asleep.

Derek woke him up by shaking him gently on the shoulder.

"It's time to go to bed," Derek whispered, helping Stiles up from the couch.

Stiles got rid of his clothes between the living room and the bedroom, crawling into bed wearing only his boxers. He was almost asleep again when he noticed Derek wasn't there with him, but going through his closet and grabbing some clothes.

"Whatcha doing?" Stiles mumbled against the pillow.

"I've gotta go to work," Derek said.

Stiles grunted, unhappy, but turned his face when Derek walked to the bed and leaned down to kiss him.

"Be careful," Stiles whispered against his lips.

"Always," Derek said.

Then he was gone.

It was hours later when Stiles woke up again, this time with Derek climbing into bed behind him.

"Okay, honey?" Stiles asked, not really awake enough to formulate full sentences yet.

"Yes," Derek kissed his shoulder, sliding an arm around his waist.

"This is my life now?" Stiles sighed.

Derek tensed, and Stiles rolled on his back so they were face to face.

"Yes."

"Just wake me up every time you get home," Stiles mumbled against Derek's chest.

He felt Derek's arms tighten around him, and he was almost back asleep when Derek said, "Yeah, baby."

The third time Stiles woke up it was to be dragged to the shower with Derek. Not that he was complaining, because it got him the opportunity to see Derek naked and wet and get him soaped up, but he hadn't had any coffee yet. Not that it matter much when Stiles was on his knees in front of Derek and had his mouth full of cock.

And not that it mattered at all when Derek toweled them dry, pushed Stiles face down on the bed, and bit down on his right ass cheek.

"Hey," Stiles yelped, glaring at Derek over his shoulder. "Not cool."

Derek just raised an eyebrow at him before spreading his cheeks open and licking a stripe over his hole. Stiles gasped at the sensation and hid his face against his arm, trying not to squirm too much as Derek tongued him open. Derek was relentless, teasing him and spreading him wider with his fingers, placing wet open mouthed kisses against him. Stiles was rutting against the mattress, looking for friction, and he moaned against the pillow when he got one hand down and started jacking himself off.

He came like that, a hand wrapped around himself, Derek's tongue on his ass, and Derek's name on his lips.

It was a good morning.

Derek fed him breakfast later, kissing him goodbye at the door before going in to work. Stiles was going to spend the day with his dad, since the Sheriff had one of his rare days off. He needed to buy some things for the apartment, and his dad offered to help.

"Don't you think you two are going a little bit fast with this?" John asked as Stiles stared at some throw pillows.

"It's been twenty years, dad," Stiles smiled softly at his dad. "That's not fast."

"I suppose not," John said, then shook his head. "I'm just glad Derek didn't do anything while you were still underage."

"Oh my _god_," Stiles looked at him, horrified. "We are _not_ having this conversation."

"I'm serious, Stiles," John said. "I'm glad I never came home and caught you two doing anything and had to arrest Derek. I don't think that would have gone well for any of us."

"I was going to let you eat burgers for lunch," Stiles pointed a finger to his dad. "But now I'm not going to anymore."

"I gave you _life_," John said with mock hurt.

"That's what you got from making fun of me," Stiles said. "Your own flesh and blood."

John shook his head, and clamped a hand on Stiles shoulder.

"Are you happy, kid?"

"Yeah, dad," Stiles tried to contain his smile, but couldn't. "I really am."

"That's all I could ask for," John nodded. "Now let's buy some pillows."

They were in the parking lot, loading their stuff into the trunk, when Stiles saw Scott and Allison walking hand in hand to their car.

"Scott," Stiles waved, smiling brightly when both of them changed directions to greet Stiles and his dad.

Stiles hugged Allison when she got close enough, the Sheriff eyeing her before pulling her into a hug too.

"I thought you were at a safe house?" John raised an eyebrow at Allison.

Allison shrugged.

"No one's heard from Kate so Derek let me out a little," Allison smiled softly, and then turned to Scott. "As long as I stay with Scott, he doesn't think anyone will try to do anything."

"And if they do, I'll protect you," Scott said, throwing an arm around Allison's shoulder.

Stiles fought the urge to snort and just as he opened his mouth he saw a black BMW with shaded windows drive into the parking lot and stopping a few feet from where they were standing. The doors opened and two guys walked out, stopping to stand in front of them. The Sheriff moved so Stiles was behind him.

"Do you know who I am?" he asked them, one hand moving slightly behind his back so Stiles wouldn't move.

Both of them nodded.

"So you'll know to walk away."

"Miss Argent would like to talk to you," one of them said, not looking at Stiles but at Allison.

"Scott, Allison, get in the car," the Sheriff said, glancing at Stiles and bringing a hand to the back of his jeans.

Stiles was suddenly very glad he had his stun gun with him.

As soon as Scott and Allison moved to the back seat of the car, the two guys advanced on the Sheriff and Stiles. The Sheriff brought his hand back from where it was with his stun gun in hand as he hit one of the guys square in the chest. Stiles unclipped his own from where it was resting on his belt and hit the guy who was coming at him in the stomach.

"Get in the car," John said after both guys dropped to the ground, unconscious.

Stiles got into the passenger seat, turning around to find Scott and Allison staring at him with wide eyes.

"You guys okay?"

"Dude," Scott said, punching him in the shoulder. "That was so cool!"

"Scott," Allison cuffed him in the head. "They could have been hurt."

"It was still cool," Scott mumbled under his breath.

John got into the car a few seconds later, face stony, and pulled out of the parking lot.

"Where are we going?" Stiles asked, glancing at his dad from the corner of his eye.

"McHale Investigations," his dad said, tone clipped.

Stiles bit down on his lip and stayed quiet for the rest of the drive.

Derek was waiting for them when they got there, staring Stiles up and down as if to make sure he was okay.

"What happened?" he asked, turning to face the Sheriff.

John told him about it, Derek's face getting colder and colder as he listened to it.

"They weren't they for Stiles?"

John shook his head.

"I'll take care of it," Derek told him.

"You better, son," John said, eyes hard.

He turned to Stiles, hugging him.

"I have to go deal with the mess we left behind," John told Stiles. "Stay safe."

"You too, dad," Stiles mumbled against his dad's shoulder.

As soon as John walked out of the door Derek threw an arm around Stiles' shoulder and started walking, Scott and Allison trailing behind. Derek left them in one of the rooms with the tv and dvd, telling them to stay put. Derek led them back to his office, stopping to lean down and kiss Stiles quick and hard on the lips before opening the door and rushing him in.

There was a man sitting in one of the chairs opposite Derek's desk, eyes running over a small notebook. He looked up at the sound of the door opening, closed the notebook and slid it in his jacket pocket.

"Dr. Deaton, this is Stiles Stilinski," Derek said, then turned to Stiles. "Stiles, this is Alan Deaton."

Stiles vaguely remembered him from his high school days when he'd pick Scott up from his job, so Stiles smiled a little when he reached out to shake Deaton's hand. Stiles liked that he wasn't creepy like Kate, but more mysterious. He looked professional, and kind of scary, but not necessarily in a bad way.

Derek told him what happened after they took their seats, and Deaton listened to him without showing any reaction.

"You're patient," was all Deaton said when Derek was done.

"My patience just ran out."

A chill went down Stiles' spine at Derek's tone.

It was not a happy one.

And Derek had his murderous look on.

"Your next move?" Deaton asked.

"Come tonight, Kate's out."

Stiles snapped his head in Derek's direction, mouth opened.

Did Derek mean what Stiles thought he meant?

Deaton just nodded.

"It was nice seeing you, Stiles," Deaton said to him as he got up and walked out.

Stiles blinked at Derek when they were alone.

"What the fuck?"

"Allison is going back to the safe house. I'm sending Isaac and Erica to pick out Kate's boys. All of them. I want her vulnerable before…" Derek trailed of.

"Before?" Stiles asked, eyes wide.

"I'm done fucking around," Derek told him, eyes cold. "This ends tonight."

"What about the mob?" Stiles asked, voice high.

"Don't worry about it."

"What do you mean, _don't worry about it_?" Stiles yelled. "This is _me_, Derek. Of course I'm going to worry if there's a chance of you getting into trouble with the fucking _mob_."

"Stiles."

"Do I have to cuff _you_ to the bed?" Stiles asked.

Derek smiled softly at him before getting up from behind the desk and pulling a chair so he could sit closer to Stiles, resting his hands on Stiles' thighs.

"This will be over tonight and I'll deal with anything that comes my way," he said, and kept going when he saw Stiles open his mouth. "I'm not discussing this with you."

Stiles snapped his mouth shut, narrowing his eyes at Derek and preparing himself for the screaming match of his life.

And then someone knocked on the door.

Derek got up to let Isaac and Erica walk in, both nodding at Stiles before turning to Derek.

"You're going after Kate's guys. All of them," Derek told them. "You're going to bring them to the holding room. I don't care how you do it or who you have to call to make it happen as long as it's done."

Stiles gulped at the terrifying smiles that split across both Isaac and Erica's faces. Without a word, they backed out and closed the door behind them.

"You're staying here with Danny until I can take you home," Derek told him, opening the door to the office and walking out. "I'll send Allison and Scott to stay with you."

"The only reason I'm not going to fight you with this is because I don't want the image of me screaming at your face to be the last thing you have in case something happens to you tonight," Stiles said as he trailed behind, voice angry and tight.

Derek stopped at the door of the surveillance room and stared at Stiles for a few seconds before leaning in close and rubbing their noses together.

"This is not a goodbye," he whispered against Stiles' lips.

"You better fucking hope not," Stiles said, crashing their mouths together.

The surveillance room was boring. It was so boring, in fact, that Stiles fell asleep, only to be woken up by Danny shaking his shoulder.

"Let's go," Danny said.

Stiles looked around. Scott also seemed to be waking up, getting up from where he was pressed tight against Allison.

"Where's Derek?" Stiles asked, voice a little hoarse from sleep.

"Out," Danny said, and Stiles knew that was all he was going to get.

Danny's behavior was actually scaring him a little bit, without the smiles and dimples and good humor. As Stiles stood and Danny's body tensed, turning his body to stare at the closed door, his hand going to a gun holstered in his belt. For some reason, the image of Danny with a gun was wrong to Stiles, and it made his stomach turn with worry.

They heard a thud on the wall outside of the door, and for a minute no one moved. Stiles and Scott shared wide eyed stares while Allison narrowed her eyes to the sight in front of her and Danny stood there, tense.

After a few beats of silence Danny's body relaxed, and he led them out of the room. Danny took them to the garage and got them all into a car. No one said anything as Danny pulled up in front of the Sheriff's house, leaving Scott and Allison in the car while he walked Stiles in, a duffle bag in hand.

"My dad's on shift tonight," Stiles told him as they got to the kitchen.

"I know," Danny said, dropping the duffle bag on the kitchen table and opening it.

He reached inside the duffle and took out a Glock, an extra clip, Taser, and another stun gun.

"Derek says you know how to use them."

"I do," Stiles nodded, licking his lips.

"Good," Danny said. "Lock all the doors and windows after I leave. Don't open the door to anyone other than Derek or your dad, even if you know them."

"Got it," Stiles said, then asked, "What happened?"

"Things escalated," Danny explained.

"And what the fuck does that mean?"

"It means you're going to stay here and not do anything stupid," Danny told him as he walked out of the house.

Stiles stared at the door for a few seconds, stunned, before he reached for the lock.

He locked all the doors, windows, and was in the process of closing all his blinds when his phone rang. In his hurry to answer it, he almost dropped his phone on the ground.

"Hello?"

"What's going on?" Scott asked.

"I don't know, man," Stiles sighed, closing the rest of his blinds before going to the living room. "All Danny said was that things _escalated_, whatever that means."

Scott went deadly silent at that.

"Scott?"

"Allison went with him."

"What?" Stiles asked.

"Danny dropped me off after you," Scott explained. "He said he was going to take her back to the safe house, but I don't think he did it."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that she kissed me and told me she loved me and that she was sorry for all this shit before I got out of the car," Scott said. "What if she was saying goodbye?"

"She wasn't, Scott," Stiles swallowed hard. "She'll be okay, and soon this will all be done for and we'll go back to our boring lives and me catching the both of you making out behind the stacks in the science section."

"I can't lose her, Stiles," Scott whispered.

"You won't," Stiles told him.

They said their goodbyes not long after that, and Stiles sat by himself on the couch in the living room of his childhood home, and waited.

Stiles woke up to the sound of something exploding.

Right outside his dad's house.

And he _panicked_.

All he could think about was that it could be someone he loved as he stared at the wreck of a car in front of the house. He had the Glock in one hand and the stun gun on the other, and he moved outside. He got as far as his front porch before someone knocked him out.

Stiles woke up gagged in the backseat of a car, his legs and wrists bound behind his back, and he mentally kicked himself. Exploding something to get him to expose himself was a pretty dumb trick, and he couldn't believe he fell for it.

They drove for a long time, and Stiles could only tell that because it was getting darker. He spent the time trying to wiggle himself free from his bounds, and just as his wrists ones were getting a little looser, they stopped. Stiles was yanked out of his seat, dragged inside of a cabin, and thrown on top of a couch. He could see Kate sitting opposite him in a chair.

She leaned forward and took of his gag, smiling at him before sitting back on her chair.

"I'm sorry about that," Kate said, taking in Stiles licking his lips repeatedly. "But we won't have to worry about that for long."

"What?" Stiles asked, narrowing his eyes at her.

"The plane will be here soon," Kate shrugged.

"What?" Stiles asked again, because _what the fuck_?

"We are going to disappear," Kate waved a hand. "Take a long vacation, if you will."

"No, we're not," Stiles said, voice firm.

Kate smiled at him.

"It's sweet how you think you have a choice," she said, voice cold.

"I'm not going."

"We'll spend some time together," Kate purred. "We'll get to know each other better."

"I'm gay," Stiles told her slowly.

"I'll make you forget about Derek," Kate said, licking her lips.

This… this wasn't happening. Stiles refused to believe this was actually a thing that was happening to him. And he refused to believe Derek hadn't come for him yet.

And if Stiles had any doubts about Kate's mental state they flew out the window right about now. She was fucking _insane_.

"I think you should be asleep before we get on with this," Kate said through a smile.

Stiles snapped his attention to the man walking towards him, syringe in hand. His body went cold, and he waited for the guy to walk close enough until he could move his legs up and kick him in the stomach. The guy doubled over, and Stiles took Kate's stunned face to get on his knees on top of the couch and topple over its back and onto the ground.

His early attempt to untie his hands gotten them loose enough that all it took was a little more wiggling and Stiles' wrists were free. He still had his feet bound and another guy was coming at him, so he got himself up as best as he could and clocked the guy in the face, sending him down. He bent down to get his ankles untied, looking over his shoulder just in time to see the guy he kicked running his way and falling to the ground as an arrow stuck out of his thigh.

Stiles looked up to see Allison with her crossbow, expression tight with fury as she aimed for her aunt, who was still sitting on the chair taking in the scene before her.

"Stiles?" someone asked, just as Laura appeared behind Allison, gun in hand.

"I'm okay," he gave her a thumbs up.

"Don't you dare move," Allison said, and Stiles turned to see Kate adjust in her chair.

Stiles went to work on getting his feet free, getting up to stand behind Laura, who had her gun aimed at the two guys on the floor. He didn't like how calm Kate was reacting to this whole thing, and he specially didn't like the fact that Derek wasn't here.

Laura unsnapped the handcuffs on her belt and handed them to Stiles.

"Cuff Kate."

Stiles didn't really want to get anywhere near Kate right now or ever, but he did as he was told, cuffing her to the chair. His hands were shaking slightly, and he knew that once this was over he was probably going to have a panic attack.

"What do we do now?" Stiles asked no one in particular as he saw the guy with an arrow on his leg moaning around on the floor and the other eyeing the gun Laura had aimed at his head.

"We need to call an ambulance," Laura said.

"No," Allison said, eyes locked with Kate. "Chris is cleaning this up."

Kate's entire body tensed and Stiles raised an eyebrow in silent curiosity.

"Chris?" Kate spat.

Allison smiled, dimples and all.

"What do you mean, Chris is cleaning up?" Kate screamed, getting up from the chair.

Allison took a step forward, aiming the crossbow directly at Kate's head.

"Sit down," she said, eyes cold.

If Stiles liked girls, he thought he'd be seriously turned on right now.

Kate slid back down on the chair, glaring at Allison.

"Where's Derek?" Stiles asked, again to no one in particular.

"Here."

Stiles' eyes snapped to the door.

Stiles took inventory, making sure everything was exactly where it was supposed to be in Derek's body, glad not to find any traces of blood or visible bruises anywhere. Stiles kind of wanted to throw himself at him, but judging by the pissed off look on Derek's face, he didn't think it would be welcomed.

Derek did his own body scan, raking his eyes up and down Stiles' body to make sure he was okay.

A muscle ticked in his jaw.

"What happened?" he asked Laura, as she handed him her gun.

"Allison was tailing Stiles," she explained. "She saw when they took him from the house and followed. She called me, I dropped by your condo to get one of your guns, and left a message with Danny so he'd call you. Allison waited until I got here, and we moved in."

"Where's dad?" Allison asked.

"Five minutes behind," Derek answered her, then turned to Stiles. "Get in the car."

Stiles didn't like this. He didn't like how Derek didn't ask how he was, and now how he was bossing Stiles around.

"If you're waiting for your boys, then you should know they're not coming," Derek said to Kate, eyes hard. "And Chris will be here soon. He had a talk with Dr. Deaton, but I'm sure he'll let you explain since you're his sister and all."

Stiles gulped as the wheels turned in his head.

The mob was going to come here and clean up after Kate.

"I'm going to wait in the car," he muttered.

"Good," Derek said.

"Bye, Laura. Bye, Allison," he told the girls before he walked out of the door.

Derek drove them home in the Camaro, and Stiles could feel the anger radiating off of him. He chew at his lower lip the entire way home, shifting in his seat and hoping Derek would say something.

He didn't.

They walked into the condo, Derek locking the door behind them as Stiles walked into the kitchen.

"Do you want anything to drink?"

Derek turned to look at him.

"What?"

The muscle in his jaw was still ticking.

This wasn't good.

"Do you… uhm… want something to drink?" Stiles asked again, licking his lips.

Derek watched him for a while.

Then he said, voice low and angry, "You left the house, where you were safe, and got kidnapped. Again."

Stiles opened his mouth only to close it back up again.

He did that.

"Looking back, I know it was kind of a stupid thing to do," Stiles said, waving his hands around.

For fuck's sake, Stiles!" Derek shouted, face tense and angry.

He looked like he was about to kill someone.

So Stiles did the only thing he could think off.

He ran to Derek, threw his arms around his shoulders, leaned in, and kissed him.

The kiss took him off guard, which was what Stiles was going for, and it took only a second for Derek to kiss him back, hot, open, and a little bit desperate.

Stiles pulled back long enough just to say, "I love you."

And kissed Derek again.

Only this time it was better.

It was like a promise.

It was the best kiss Stiles ever had.

* * *

The bookstore was opened again.

After Allison got back to work the espresso machine, it was like they had even more customers than usual. Lydia even dropped by to help sometimes, claiming the whole mess Stiles' life had been for the past weeks had started here at the store, and there's was no way she was going to miss out on the next thing he got himself into.

Scott asked Allison to marry him. It had been a really sweet and gag-inducing proposal, where Scott got Laura and Stiles to help him to set up some flowers and candles behind the stacks at the science section of the bookstore. Scott asked, Allison said yes, there were some tears and applause and everyone went out for pizza later.

Kate Argent disappeared.

Apparently, Dr. Deaton had a meeting with Chris Argent about what Kate had done. Chris told him he was done with having to constantly clean up after her, and that she was ending up being more trouble than she was worth. It helped when Derek called him, saying Kate was after Stiles, and not only Stiles was Derek's but he was also a sheriff's son. Chris had enough problems already without having to deal with an entire police department at his back, so he told Derek he'd take care of it.

All the drama in Stiles life over.

But it took a couple of weeks after that for his life to go back to what it was before.

And by that he meant being able to call Derek's condo his home, and having Derek beside him on the bed every night.

He was hanging out with Scott at Derek's condo when his phone rang.

"Hey, honey," Stiles said, laughing at Scott's disgusted face.

"I'm taking you out to dinner tonight," Derek told him.

"Oooohh, yes please," he breathed.

Silence.

"Derek?"

"You're going to fucking kill me," Derek grunted.

"I hope not," Stiles said, lips curving up.

"Don't let Scott convince you it's okay to order Chinese before we go out," Derek told him.

"I won't," Stiles said, biting his lip.

"Good."

They were silent for a few seconds until Stiles said, "I love you."

He could hear the smile in Derek's voice when he answered, "I know."

Stiles hung up, smiling at Scott who only shook his head at him.

"Boys!" they heard Melissa shout from the front door.

"Living room!" they yelled back.

"Come to the kitchen, I have something for you," she said.

They got up and followed her, sharing a look when she sat on a chair and placed an old box on top of the table. They each took a seat opposite her and waited.

"This is a best friend box," Melissa told both of them.

Scott's eyes widened and he stared back at Stiles whose body had gone tense.

"What?" Stiles asked, voice tight.

"Aria and I made it when we were eight," she smile sadly.

Stiles blinked back tears.

Melissa opened the box, careful when moving some things around, until she found what she was looking for.

"Here it is," she said, taking a deep breath before scanning her eyes over the paper in her hand and finding the part she was looking for. "_One day we will get married in a double ceremony and live in houses right next to each other. And when we have children they'll be friends and get married so we can be related for real._"

Stiles was biting down on his lower lip, trying to breathe normally. Melissa turned the back around so she could show them both hers and Aria's signature.

"We wrote this and signed it," Melissa said, voice wobbling. "We only put it on paper because we thought it'd look more legitimate."

Stiles and Scott looked at each other and then down at their hands.

They both got up at the same time and hugged her tight, tears slowly falling down Stiles' face. Scott let go first, walking back to the living room and leaving Stiles and his mom alone.

"Sometimes," Melissa said, rubbing small circles on Stiles' back. "Sometimes I still pick up the phone to call her. Even after all these years."

Stiles was quietly sobbing now, hiding his face against Melissa's shoulder.

"She'd be so proud of you, you know?" Melissa whispered. "She used to say you were the best thing she ever did. And I'm so happy it's my son that gets to have that in his life."

She untangled herself from him, kissing him on the forehead as he slid back down on her chair, and walked out of the condo, taking Scott with her. After he heard the door closing, Stiles moved to go through the box in front of him, reading and rereading letters, memorizing his mom's words, staring at pictures, going through all the things she thought were important enough to put in her best friend box. He put everything back in place and closed the lid, leaving it where it was as he walked to bedroom and crawled into bed.

It was some time later when he heard Derek get in. He only mashed his face tighter against the pillow, hoping Derek would take in the fact that there were no lights on in the bedroom and think he was asleep.

"Stiles?" he heard from the bedroom door.

Stiles didn't say anything.

He heard Derek get closer, and he thought he almost got away with it until he felt the bed dip behind him. A second later he was pressed against Derek's chest, Derek's leg thrown over his and Derek's arm around his waist.

"I know you're not asleep," Derek said against the back of his neck.

"Go away," Stiles said, voice hoarse and scratchy from crying.

"Scott told me about the box."

Stiles snorted. "Scott needs to learn how to keep his mouth shut."

Derek didn't say anything, waiting for Stiles to do so. When he didn't, Derek moved him so that Stiles was facing him.

Stiles tucked his face against Derek's neck, breathing him in, but still not saying anything.

"Look at me," Derek said softly.

Stiles shook his head.

"Come on, baby," Derek whispered, breath ghosting over Stiles' forehead.

"No," Stiles mumbled.

"Why not?"

"My face is all splotchy," Stiles said.

Stiles could feel Derek's body shake with silent laughter.

Stiles punched him in the stomach.

"I don't care if your face is _splotchy_," Derek said, amused.

"Fuck you," Stiles snapped.

Derek didn't say anything, just held Stiles tighter.

Stiles waited for him to ask something, demand an explanation or that Stiles talked to him, but nothing happened.

When Derek kissed his temple, Stiles knew this was Derek giving in.

And when Derek ran a hand down the waistband of his boxers to cup his ass, Stiles knew this was Derek telling him it was okay.

And when Derek thrust into him, kissed his mouth, bit down on his shoulder as they both came, Stiles knew he made the right choice when he chose Derek.

"Derek," he whispered.

"Love you," Derek mumbled against his lips.

Stiles smiled, "I know."

* * *

**A/N:** this happened mostly because i like to turn my favorite books into sterek fanfiction.

a _lot_ of things here are from rock chick, by kristen ashley ~

and you can find out more about a lot of other things if you follow me on tumblr.


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